Journey's End
by Richard Banker
Summary: Kristine becomes involved in undercover work in relation to Nikki's continuing research project while coming to terms with joint motherhood. Jo finds her past affair comes too close to home with her professional life. More changes in this group of friends
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters within, belong to either Shed Productions or the BBC. All feedback welcome. Scene One

Nikki Wade nervously picked up the slim document headed "An Investigation into HMP Larkhall - its implications for women's prisons," by Nikki Wade of the Howard League for Penal Reform, turning to her boss, Paul Williams for reassurance. She had written an internal report last September but since then, Paul had had second thoughts on how best to use it. It was apparent that his bright and hard working subordinate had uncovered material that cut deeper than he had first considered. It seemed symptomatic of the state of the deteriorating state of the prison service in general. Nikki had been both flattered and nervous when she was asked to expand on her original findings. Now she was going into print with a full-scale publication designed for wider consumption outside her organization.

"Is this really my work? It looks different when it's been committed to print."

"You underestimate yourself, Nikki. I've never wanted someone immersed in all the standard clichés to do this report. I wanted someone clear thinking, fair-minded and above all else someone who had been there. Even after all this time, you still have this lingering feeling that you need to apologies for your time spent at Larkhall Prison, don't you. You must remember that it is a unique grounding experience."

Paul Williams' clear penetrating eyes went right through Nikki. Of course he'd got it right. He was a guy in a million.

"You don't miss a thing. OK Paul, I promise to write that down as my mantra and repeat it to myself in moments of self doubt," she answered with that note of gentle irony. Paul knew that Nikki had listened very closely to him and was totally sincere in her thanks.

"This organization has so much to thank you for just being here. I see my role in giving you any helpful pointers and letting you fly by yourself. When this publication hits the streets, my job is to take the heat from the press and the political establishment. Just remember that I'm here to take the heat as I'm paid more than you and also, well, I like to think I'm a mate of yours."

"Thanks a million, Paul," Nikki replies, flushing with warm affection for the guy. "This feels strange and I'm still not too used to being treated this kindly."

"Don't mention it Nikki," was his casual reply, which neatly understated his feelings.

"I suppose the right wing press and the apparatchiks in the Home Office will be after our blood," mused Nikki aloud after a pause for reflection, neatly deploying her favourite John Deed phrase. Her sharp ear savoured the sharpness of the meaning so much that she had made the word hers.

"I've gone through it with a fine tooth comb and there aren't any cracks in it. We are truth seekers, unafraid of what we might find. We are armed with it. At least that's what I was brought up to believe. They've got much more reason to be shit scared as, deep down, they have that sneaking suspicion that someone, somewhere is holding out on them. To be top of the shit heap in their institutions doesn't necessarily make them strong. In our organization, we look after everyone, including the filing clerk "

Nikki returned to examine the preface with which she had started the report. She recalled how Helen had been incredibly helpful and supportive and that Paul Williams had rigorously tested the report, that no conclusion remained unsupported by evidence. When she was done, it had been committed to print and, finally after months of slaving over the report, here it was.

"………There is a willful reluctance by the medical unit attached to the prison in abandoning the previous system of deploying freely available NHS medical records. It is difficult to understand why it ignores the obvious truth that prisoners have past lives in society. Instead, it operates by a biased and judgmental approach that categories and stigmatizes, especially where it cannot understand what is before it. Regrettably, this same mindset tends to permeate the wing I chose to select for study with the result that far too many prison officers are inducted into this culture when they are young and impressionable. Where the one part of the prison service could have enlightened and assisted the other, both sides end up confirming mutually shared prejudices. There are honourable exceptions, of course, but these officers are far too often marginalized and made to feel so. The lynchpin of this system is the Principal Officer who is a vital source of information and guidance - in both directions - between prison management and ordinary prison officers. Regrettably, this potential has been flagrantly abused in controlling and manipulating information for personal advantage, as I shall later demonstrate in more detail.

The management style is heavily focused on currently fashionable commercial ideas of profit, even after one attempt to privatize the prison most fortunately fell through. This was no coincidence . Publicity for a charitable presentation of a wheelchair for the disabled son of a prisoner was hijacked by Lynfords Security to boost their profile for the takeover only to be hijacked in turn by the spirited resistance of a group of prisoners whose only demand was that Lynfords should drop their bid.From this writer's background research on other privatized prisons, conditions for both prison officers and prisons have substantially deteriorated, as the humanizing side of the prison service is seen as a needless expense to be cut back on. Instead, it relies on the heavy use of surveillance cameras whose intrusiveness negates the attempt to create a secure environment. Even now, it pervades the management ethos- examples being the educational facilities which are not encouraged beyond the minimum, the disbandment of the 'lifer's unit' of which this writer has direct knowledge of. Most disturbing is the 'weekly spends' system, which should run on 'nil profit' basis is run on a profit basis for no clear reason. There is a critical period in the run up to release date when prisoners should be enabled to be prepared to find their way in the world outside prison and no resources are put into this area. This matches, in a disjointed fashion the cynical expectation amongst prison officers that discharged prisoners are expected to return there sooner or later. Consequently, both management style and the dominant prison officer culture are therefore at best irrelevant to the needs of a modern prison system.

Consequently, there are a multiple set of problems which each feed off each other in the prison organization – before this writer even starts to describe the plight of the prisoners."

She looked at it and thought, yeah, it's pretty fluent and smiled at the final sentence, which combined her analytical style with her sense of irony. She shrugged her shoulders and concluded that if Paul was so enthusiastic, it must be good. All the same, she had that

strange feeling that she'd assembled together a stash of dynamite and that the force of the explosion would surprise her more than anyone else.

********

"So here you are at last, sweetheart. Your first publication and I would bet, not your last," Helen said, in tones of glowing pride for her partner. She felt as positive about it as much as if she had written the report.

"I could never have done it without your encouragement. It feels a bit off in taking all the credit."

"Nonsense," pronounced Helen." I'm not greedy for the spotlight. Let's face it, I would have extreme difficulty in writing about the prison service, which dumped on me from day one. I wonder you can contemplate it and be so objective after what you've been through. I'm happy to cheer you on from the sidelines."

Instantly, the dark haired woman's thoughts slid into a parallel dimension. The time they had lived together had been such that life before that date seemed unreal and had slid into another dimension. True, Nikki thought, her life with Trisha had had its special flavour but it didn't interfere with the here and now, especially as they were such good friends. It wasn't even the case that the first period of living together was one of lustful sex that had gradually diminished over time. Instead, their love and friendship had become more intimate and had explored depths of shared experience while the feelings of sexual desire had become more knowing. She could never believe that Helen had had any reservations about her sexuality, which fitted over her like a glove. When Nikki had laboured long and hard over her work, she had felt Helen's presence always nearby and this spurred her on to elaborate or revise parts she'd been doubtful about. For a reason Helen couldn't put her finger on, she had refrained from directly intruding on her partner's efforts.

"A penny for your thoughts, babes," Helen said into her lover's faraway expression on her face.

"You can have them for free, darling. I was just thinking about how you're always there for me," pronounced Nikki, veering round to give the smaller woman a lingering kiss on her lips before carrying on in a more reflective tone of voice. "Thinking about it, I got to know much more about the prison system than the average prisoner. I'm not sure where my own observations stopped and where conversations with you began. Still, it's only the icing on the cake."

"So that is all my expertise is worth, Ms Wade? You have a lot of making up to do for that remark," Helen protested, her arms linked around Nikki's waist and grinning from ear to ear as she mischievously teased her partner.

"And won't I know it? I know just how long making up can take. My tongue gets tired and I get a crick in my neck, " groaned Nikki

"Ah, but there is a reward at the end of it. Come on, admit it, babes you love it."

"Is this a punishment or a proposition?" Nikki asked, carefully setting the slim document down out of harms way. They had eaten and had got cleared away and that feeling started to rise up in her that the evening was theirs for the asking.

"Whichever way you want to take me," came the sultry answer as the smaller woman fixed her lover with her green eyes.

Immediately her pulse started racing. Helen had that turn of tone and phrase that look in her eye that never failed to rouse her, especially when her lover was now delicately caressing her curves. Nikki reached forwards and twined her arms round the smaller woman's neck with a blissful smile on her face. They were in paradise. They were both feeling especially bonded by the good news of Nikki's publication so that making love tenderly flowed naturally out of their feelings.

Helen pulled the taller woman forwards and her soft lips pressed against Nikki's and her tongue eagerly sought out the other woman's. They tumbled sideways onto the large, comfortable reddish patterned sofa, Helen on top of her lover. The taller woman sighed blissfully as their mouths met and her fingers stroked the well-known contours of her face. It was as if she could so easily sculpt an image of Helen, so well did she physically know her. In the meantime, Helen's fingers expertly unbuttoned her shirt with smooth facility and those lips tasted the smooth silky skin that her senses desired. In the meantime, Nikki expertly unzipped her lover's casual top and felt her hands guided to her lover's gorgeous breasts. A rush of desire swept through Helen as she felt how physically and mentally attuned they were to each other. They could wait until they got to their bedroom, Helen considered, as she let Nikki unclip her black lacy bra but that would be just too much. In no time at all, their clothes were strewn on the floor in an untidy heap and Helen ran her lips and fingers all over Nikki's body. They whispered sweet endearments to each other, the sort of stray thoughts that had lingered in the backs of their memories and now naturally coming out of their mouths. Finally, Helen's fingers slid down Nikki's flat stomach and edged their way into where her desires were concentrated while Nikki's arms cradled her lover. The taller woman writhed her way finally to a climax and was dizzy with happiness.

They couldn't remind each other how good it felt to be free to express their love for each other in the most natural way possible as they finally slid off the sofa and Nikki landed on top of the brown haired woman. She owed it to their love to kiss and caress Helen as they lay there on the soft carpet.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth was tapping away on her home computer to finish off an urgent assignment. The fingers flew over the keyboard not from any divine inspiration but in completing a pot-boiler of an article. It was nothing in particular but her acquired competence over the years knew enough to conjure up the phrases in first take writing. As the Independent's latest arts critic, she had found that her enforced banishment from the political section had its advantages. She approached the end of her piece, ran the spell check over it and prepared to e mail it into the office to feed the ever hungry news desk and the editor to cast his eye over it. She knew that this was an average page 11 article that helped bring in her salary. She knew that it wasn't in the same class as her inspired coverage of the Karen Betts trial and her coverage of Nikki Wade's slashing criticism of the running of Larkhall Prison but it would have to do. As she saw the e mail with its attachment start to disappear down the invisible lines of communication, she heard the key turn in the front door and she grinned widely. She spotted the lithe, slightly windswept figure of Karen Betts herself walking towards her with a spring in her step, arms outstretched and a wide smile spreading across her face.

"Mmmm," Beth said as she reluctantly came up for air after a long, deep kiss as Karen settled down on her lap."You are the most gorgeous kisser without exception - and after a day of slaving away at the hospital."

Karen marvelled at the sight and feel of her lover as she sat on her lap and draped her arms around her lover's shoulders. Even working at home in her jeans and loose fitting top, Beth retained her glamorous look about her, her neatly bobbed hair and artfully applied make-up, even if it had recently been interfered with. A more tangible feeling for her inner glow was the way they'd felt each other up, an appetiser for the main course later on.

"I get all sorts of interesting ideas as I'm driving home," came the smirking reply as the

fingertips of her right hand continued to caress Beth's physical charms.

"Aren't I the lucky one to find another woman as sexually demanding as me?" Beth murmured."I'd finished my assignment so the evening could be ours?" she questioned tentatively. Normally, the paths of their independent careers were sure to coincide in the most delightful of ways.

"It's my night off from my coursework studies too, darling," Karen teased, kissing the tip of her lover's nose. Instantly, feelings of release flowed through both women's systems knowing that work demands didn't always make that possible. Later on, they'd knocked up together a quick and tasty meal with the ease and synchronicity born of their deep bonding. Karen only had to think of the need of a wooden spatula that she needed when Beth placed it in her hand. After they'd eaten and put the dishes in the washing machine, Beth had changed into a lacy white negligee exposing a teasing display of thigh while Karen's display of comfortable semi-nakedness was more directly expressed. As they sat back for an intimate evening with soft music in the background, they slipped into a conversation about themselves, where they were heading.

"Darling, you've been so patient to put up with my mad ambitions. I know that some evenings, I'm not the best company,"Karen said tenderly, thinking of the hours she'd spent in the evening, studying for her nursing exams. She remembered years ago how she'd taken her BA in Sociology while working fore the prison service and had passed it but despite the grousing from the male partner of the time. Instead, Beth imperturbably busied herself on the computer while Karen felt her intangible presence all around her. Karen felt that Beth had that indefinable knack in working around her but had wondered how much that had been translated into reality from her past experience of failed relationships and her own ambition.

You're here and that's all that matters. You worked your way up to wing governor in the prison service till that bastard Fenner screwed you over. It's not enough for me to admire the way you slave away as a nurse," Beth said softly as she suspended her glass from her delicate slim fingers. The gesture was provocative- her words were deadly serious.

"You know, it's still a revelation to come across a lover who's so reasonable," Karen said in melting tones, her emotion rising to the surface even after a hard day's work.

"It's not so hard. I know that you're after promotion and you'd run the show so easily. I can tell it in every move you make," Beth said softly, putting her weight on her elbow.

Karen rose out of her seat, laid her body against her lover and kissed her tenderly and deeply. This wasn't just about sexual desire- this was about the sort of emotional and spiritual love that she once thought she would never dare expose. She had been denied so long being appreciated for who she was- Beth made it the easiest thing to ask for that was one of many reasons why she loved her Beth so deeply.

As for Trisha and Sally-Anne, they put on their glad rags for another party at Chix. They had no need for change- they were fine as they were.

George and Alice had learnt to accommodate the angularities of their differing work lifestyles. Alice as a social worker was bound to care for the dysfunctional underdogs of the world and had learnt the dangers of identifying with them too far. As for George, she reconciled the need to earn sufficient well paid civil cases against her backhanded style in crusading criminal cases for which she was gaining a growing reputation which Jo Mills couldn't help failing to notice. Alice had learnt her lessons well enough in not letting her heart carrying her head away. George knew that the details of her one night stand with John would remain safely under wraps as long as she and John willed it. Both women also were doing their best to not mention the upcoming trial of Alice's manipulative drama ridden ex partner Becky Elliott for stabbing her psychotic mother, an event which Alice witnessed in her professional capacity. She'd paid for this misdemeanour as her boss had criticised her as she should have known that that her client's daughter was also her ex-lover and the wound to her self-esteem hadn't healed.

Somewhere in the cold, dark depths of three o clock in the morning, the world is a different place. Some inner prompting demanded that Jo Mills' senses wake up, bright and alert, for no particular reason she could think of and at a time that was certainly not welcome. It wasn't necessary, she fumed, for her vital sleep to be disturbed. All at once, feelings of miserable emptiness flooded in , making her highly conscious of the empty space in her double bed. If only life were other than what it was, she confessed to herself, even if she had made her recent choices. Only in these secret places did Jo Mills silently dare to question just why she had ever acted so compulsively in going off the straight and narrow all those months ago. It didn't make for comfortable reliving when she had all the time in the world to contemplate the gravity of her actions. Despite her best wishes, her mind to flit back to the day she bumped into Mel Bridges in the respectable local store and she'd made her first mistake in assuming that this woman was the teenage schoolgirl she'd known, only grown older. Through the eyes of hindsight, she'd seen them meeting in the local teashop and how she'd become softly nostalgic about their shared childhood and blossoming adolescence. The sweet innocent swirl of emotions had concealed so well, Jo laughed ironically, how she'd woven a spell round her, how they'd spent evenings drinking and playing guitars like the old days should have been and she'd been delicately guided down the seductive slide of sexual desire that had always been there since her school-days.

here it was, right out in the open. It was one thing to get in from a days work and to be gadding off to Mel's house so she never gave herself time to think, never to switch on her barrister's brain and enquire just what she did for a living. God, she'd been so blind, so spellbound. It was quite another thing after months of living at home on her own with way too much time to brood to recall the sick feeling in her stomach when she discovered the brutal truth that Mel had been using her as a protective veneer of respectability to conceal her criminal enterprise. That was what all the charade was all about, she fumed as she shook her fists impotently. Now she was in the cold light of night and she was left wondering what in hell had happened to her? She was a respectable widow, mother of two sons, she sniffed, as she reached for the familiar emotional comforter. This time, it didn't work.

Temporary rescue came when her mind veered off in another tangent to realise in the middle of all this trauma that at one point, life had taken an unexpected upturn. Far away in the distance was a golden glow of the one instance in her life when she could have gone against the habits of a lifetime and simply given way to the direction to which she was being pointed. She remembered when the truth about Mel had hit her like a sledgehammer blow when she was steered in Helen and Nikki's direction and stayed overnight at their flat, emotionally weepy and needy of the kindness and understanding that she'd received from them. They'd chatted awhile and talked her situation through until Jo had settled down for the night on the settee, just as John had done a couple of times. When she'd woken up the following day, her momentary disorientation had given way to an eerie feeling of detachment of all the horrors of the previous day, so that it didn't occur to recriminate herself for her reckless foolishness in being pulled into Mel's schemes. That had been in another era while this was today. She remembered the simple joy of buying the simple black dress while her friends looked on and going out to Chix without a care in the world. Hanging out with her women friends felt good. When she'd entered the mythical world of Chix, she hazily remembered that she'd contemplated it as a forbidden zone where she'd heard that George frequented. Yet here she suddenly appeared out of nowhere along with all the women she'd met in one court case or another in a beguiling world of pulsing music, flashing lights and other glamorous women who all smiled welcomingly at her. This other world now felt completely natural, right out in the open not something to be furtively hidden from the neighbours behind Mel Bridges' front door. She remembered mixed feelings of hesitancy and excitement as she wondered maybe she'd lock eyes with some shapely woman until she connected thought with a laughing woman with loosely flowing blond hair. In no time at all, she danced the night away with this woman, not letting her eyes stray away from her feminine attractions while shouting out a conversation that made her feel young again. When the tempo of the music slowed, what could have felt more natural than to slide into each other's arms. This felt more like life, she sighed to herself. When they all finally came to leave, her hand was clasped in Jane's as the group of women chatted amongst each other. There was an indefinable buzz circulating so that Jo felt high with a new life opening out before her, that she was finally turning a corner. As they found themselves in the back seat of a taxi, the city lights flashing past them, Jo automatically asked the taxi driver to head to the hotel she'd booked for the night, not wanting to put on Nikki and Helen's kindness for a second night, having taken her night suitcase along with her. Jane raised her eyebrows and said nothing.

As they were spilled out into the night air, the taxi engine still running, Jo suddenly pulled the other woman into her arms. The whole evening had had that feel of promise in the air. Instantly, their tongues sought each other's out and their bodies pressed against each others. It was a long, slow kiss and all her neediness was expressed for this gorgeous woman. Only when they came up for air was it on the tip of Jo's tongue to suggest heading off to Jane's place. She'd ruled out as impossible the thought of sneaking Jane past the hotel reception and perhaps the second date for Boxing Day seemed more appropriate.

"Excuse me, Jane, I'm not sure of the etiquette for first or second dates," Jo finally confessed nervously, a phrase that came out of nowhere from past encounters going back down the years. She tried making up for this by kissing Jane softly on her lips one more time.

"In which case, I'll write down my address so you know where to come for me and you'll believe this is for real,"Jane said softly, reaching for her handbag. They exchanged one last soft kiss and then Jane skipped away towards the taxi which swallowed her up. In the frosty air and starlight illumination, this image remained imprinted forever on Jo's mind.

In the cold loneliness of the night, Jo could remember Christmas Day when she remained in a positive mood while her sons watched "The Great Escape" and Nikki phoned her could remember chatting in an innocent, insouciant tone of voice to Nikki wade about the gorgeous woman she'd got dancing with at Chix and exchanging that goodnight kiss. In chatting away on the landline in the hall, she felt as if she was communicating with a secret part of herself that had always been attracted to the bright lights, big city of London where Nikki and Helen lived. They were right in the heart and centre of all that was fast moving, cutting edge and she'd had a taste of it all, the night she'd gone to Chix.

"Mum, what do you want to watch on TV? This is a family Christmas after all," called out her son Mark in a complaining tone of voice, lazily deploying an argument to exercise a passing whim for the family to be together.

That did it. Jo put down the receiver with a shaking hand and a clatter and stalked towards the living room. Her eyes flitted back and forth over the gleaming surfaces, checking all the spring cleaning she'd done after all the months of neglect last autumn when she'd spent all her spare time drinking and making love with one Mel Bridges, her old school friend, one time rock musician lover and drugs baroness and standing temptation to embrace the wild side of life. She'd briefly passed her empty council house on the way back from work and the windows were boarded up with coarse wooden planking. When she'd spring cleaned the family home, she'd worked so frenziedly in hoovering, cleaning and polishing that she hadn't given herself time to think but worked round the house like a whirling dervish and, at the time, was simply pleased by the simple act of restoration, at setting a part of her world straight. Now she realised that another siren sound had been calling out to her from the rocks on which breaking waves smashed their weight. She'd been asked once again to go off the straight and narrow, to abandon the line of duty that had driven her career, the family she'd created. Not this time, she vowed as her sons let her pick some random programme and she forced herself to enjoy it.

That Boxing Day, instead of beautifying herself to enjoy the charms of one Jane Lancaster, she drunk heavily from the bottle of whisky and, after Christmas, steered clear of Chix and any other temptation. This contrary impulse blocked off the moment forever for her letting nature's urgings set her course and she was never more miserable at four in the morning..

As for Jo Mills, she couldn't even begin to deal with the crippling burden of guilt that was all the harder to deal with as her relationship with him had never been like this. Despite her best efforts, sleep continued to elude her.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, Jane and Kristine found themselves in the one place both women most wanted to be- rolling around in Kristine's bed. The fair haired woman's dress had been unzipped at the back while she'd deftly removed Kristine's top, her grinning face and dishevelled brown hair emerged Their lips locked hungrily against each others and muffled sounds emerged sounding like sighs of satisfaction amidst the feel of tongues sliding over and around each other. Jane loved the first feel of her lover's sexual voracity- this unashamed frank expression of desires was what she wanted out of life and she was woman enough to match what was coming her way. She expertly unclipped her lover's bra, and as she came up to the surface, gasped with naked desire at her lover's ample breasts and pointed nipples.

"You like what you see?" Kristine teased, feeling her girlfriend's attention being powerfully drawn down to two of her prized assets. Despite her levity, she loved the smoothness of her lover's perfumed skin, the soft tone of her voice and the silky feel of her long hair. True, Jane had threatened to ruin the evening because of her jumpiness about Jo bloody Mills but the larger woman knew that, between the sheets, Jane was truly luscious. Jane's answer was for her lips and tongue to trace a delicate path down Kristine's throat and sketch out a mad tracery line of indecision as she dithered about which nipple to capture. After the tantalising choice was made, Jane greedily coaxed and stimulated such a sensitive organ and Kristine moaned in sheer delirious joy, arching her back in pleasure.

"You like how this feels?" Jane said at last, the irresistible temptation to tease her lover right back gaining a narrow advantage over the joys of pleasuring her.

"My turn now," commanded Kristine as she used her strength to twist over in bed so that she was now straddling her lover. By now, Jane's pulses and libido were starting to pour through her system as they started making love in earnest. Jane was especially overjoyed that her sexual partner always took her time and made sure that they both climaxed in such a glorious fashion that left both of them breathless. Everything felt worthwhile after the series of disappointing past conquests, of the 'wham bam, thank you m'am" of inexperience or more treacherously the pillow princess who wanted her to do all the hard work. Kristine had class by contrast.

"God, you're gorgeous," Jane whispered, her voice laden with sexual desire as she caressed her lover's breasts."You're my ultimate fantasy made real of a big strong woman who's just about to ravish me. And we know each other as well."

"And your libido as well?" laughed Kristine."There's one thing that's always puzzled be about you," she added with elaborate casualness, a slight shadow flickering across her face, something that Jane picked up on .It struck her that only a woman could handle a personal question when nakedly wound round each other and a man wouldn't. Kristine let the idle thought go.

"And what's that darling? You can tell me anything, even right now,"Jane said in a moment of tenderness, looking up at this extraordinary woman and kissing her on her lips. The combination of far reaching intelligence, sparkling wit and sheer sexiness was overwhelming. It crossed her mind that Kristine was exposing a rare chink of self-doubt . something which she should treat with the utmost tender loving care.

"It doesn't matter," Kristine said. The undertone in her voice wasn't lost on Jane who'd picked up on her lover's education course in picking up nuances in the human voice not to say the altered touch and feel of her lover. She had to step up to the mark without fail in her next words.

"You do matter,"Jane said with soft emphasis as she set about phrasing her feelings with particular care."All the time I've known you, you've radiated positivity in everything you do. You must know that your intelligence is so sexy and I'm really drawn to strong women like you so much it's a wonder I haven't started fancying women in uniforms. Besides, I have a positive attraction for women who don't come off the fashion magazine production line."

"So how have you managed all these months?" questioned Kristine guardedly.

"With great difficulty,"Jane confessed frankly before the memories of the last months impelled her to talk in an impassioned stream of words."I've hung out a lot at Chix where a thirty-something crowd are paired off and they're friends. I've pulled my share of the younger glamour women, all dressed up to the nines. I've been the dominant one and, sure I've pleasured myself but I get bored with them so quickly. No conversation, no style. If you must know, I got some warning signs when I started flirting and dancing with Jo Mills. For an older woman, she looked pretty good to the eye but I figured out that she was bicurious even though she hung out with a lesbian crowd. There was a neediness that made me wary but hey, I'm open to experiment. What really pissed me off was that after a first date snog, she stood me up and I guess headed back to straight-land. So after all this shit, you are really a sight for sore eyes. Don't you know how much I've been lusting after you ever since you phoned me up? Sleeping with a friend does help."

"And sore lips if I have my way?" teased Kristine gently. Jane knew that her backhanded declaration of appreciation had moved the other woman. "Darling, I'm so sorry for doubting you. I know I've got some serious making up to do."

Jane almost swooned at those last words. Past experience told her that her lover's making up added an extra spice to her sensational lovemaking skills. She was happy to lie back and be pleasured. True to her word, Kristine kissed and caressed that divine woman furiously and finally traced a line of kisses down her throat and down one of her rounded breasts. Already, her nipples were diamond hard, the thought of that preliminary taste of womanhood being irresistible to Kristine as her lips found what she treasured. She loved the way that this sometimes woman of hers was starting to writhe and moan with pleasure, especially as her hand started to caress her lover's stomach and other nipple and edge towards where her fingers most desired. She thought affectionately of past occasions when they'd slept together and they were equally vigorous and vocal in their lovemaking. After a moment of indecision, Kristine decided that she desired the sexual taste of her lover and her lips and tongue started teasing and massaging the vital spot with loving affection, relishing the taste of womanhood that she'd not enjoyed for several months. At moments like this, she loved recrossing backwards and forth across the line. As for Jane, her legs were outstretched wide as this darling woman coaxed her up and over into the orgasm of a lifetime and her body took on a life of its own. Her piercing cries rang out without regard for anything else except the way she was being so pleasured.

"Wow," Jane exclaimed into her lover's shoulder, a lifetime later, as she found herself lying full length on top of Kristine, feeling her lover's strong right arm enfold her. "You really know how to make a woman feel so good."

"I am the best," Kristine said smugly in a way that amused her friend. Typical Kristine, she thought and so true

"I'm pretty good myself. I haven't had any complaints darling," came the languid reply now that her breathing had returned to normal.

"Of course you are," came the infinitely soft, perfectly articulated soothing voice in that cultured voice Jane loved so much. She snuggled down so that her face was buried in her lover's ample breasts. She'd love to lie like that forever as delicate fingers started running through her hair. The peace in the darkened room was profound.

"Hey, how come Jules sleeps through our lovemaking?" Jane suddenly said, raising her head in surprise.

"Just relax. Jules's subconscious doggy brain knows the difference between sexual pleasure and if I were in real danger. He's used to me by now. He has to be."

"I know you're thinking how I come to have sex with men as well as women," Kristine stated quietly. The thought had hidden itself away in the dark all night all this time, even when Jane had returned the compliment. This time her very sensitive two fingers had returned the compliment. She had loved the feel of Kristine writhing and crying out in pleasure as she had worked her magic on her. She concluded that both were secret exhibitionists judging by the way that neither thought 'what if the neighbours could hear them?'.

"The thought had crossed my mind,"Jane responded, instinctively moving so that she could face her friend. The droll humour of the situation made her smile at herself a little later as Kristine proceeded to explain herself. This was a night both for intimate confessions and unabashed sexual pleasures.

"I went to a special school for the blind, a mixed boarding school so that when I was fourteen, we discovered interesting extra curricular activities of our own. In my first year at uni, a gay female friend showed me the other half of what I was missing. All my lovers are friends and they've lasted, conveniently settling around London and they've got two things in common. First they're intelligent with strong personalities and second, they've got that special imagination. Don't think that all men favour the missionary position."

Kristine could feel that this was a train of thought that her lover didn't want to go down so she lightened the atmosphere.

"But you're not my only female lover the same I'm not the only woman you sleep with. I know part of you likes being the experienced older woman seducing some nymphet into bed. Admit it darling."

"All right, none of us are monogomous. Different strokes for different folks. There, I've committed myself. I'll stop being stupidly jealous. Anyone you sleep with must be special," Jane finally concluded, the strength of the words hitting her over the head in delayed reaction. This had finally resolved their niggling conflicts, so hidden that neither of them had been able to put it into words till now.

"Thanks Jane- for understanding," Kristine said with a flicker of emotion. As soon as she said these words, she knows that Jane had picked up on her train of thought. This woman was such a smart learner and this was why she was special amongst her female lovers and always would be. They reached round each other's shoulders and hugged each other tenderly in the peaceful stillness of the night.

Down the road from Kristine's flat and wending its way towards London's suburbs was a smartly appointed flat with gleaming hard surfaces with the latest in fashion design, both in household decorations and the wardrobe of its occupant. Sheer silk dresses, elegant blouses and a row of perilously high-heeled shoes crowded out the substantial wardrobe. It was a testament to an expensive lifestyle and an expensive divorce- and for for the occupant. Before the widespread dressing table, laden with expensive perfumes, lay a wide double bed with a slightly crumpled duvet from which two elegant tapered ankles extended alongside which lay part of a more solid bare foot. Travelling up the bed, stray locks of blond hair lay alongside the tousled grey locks and strongly marked cheekbones of a high court judge, one John Deed and the owner of the flat, Francesca Rochester. It was the following morning after a night of sexual passion. While everywhere had been quiet, finally there was a faint stirring of life.

"Well, John, the way you keep coming back to me makes a girl really feel wanted," Francesca said her low melodious tones, perfect from the moment of waking even if she did look tousled. John closed his eyes momentarily.

"You're not the only woman I sleep with, Francesca," came the softly phrased reply.

"So I notice. There's talk round the town of the blind woman you see. She's not exactly your type but it's none of my business I suppose," came the cool, unconcerned reply.

"Curiously enough, she's my type if you look hard enough. She challenges my intellect to keep up to her level and being blind gives her certain unexpected advantages. She's no keener in settling down than I am to a monogamous relationship but she has a heart and soul though she keeps that hidden from casual gaze. She's also really attractive to the eye."

Francesca blinked at John's unexpected response but put it down to his individual sense of loyalty. She had once seen Kristine Thorne walking down Oxford Street in a stately fashion, her guide dog leading the way via the lead. She had a certain presence,Francesca conceded but was hardly the eye candy that John favoured.

"I'm intrigued by the way you described her, personality first and looks last. You must be slipping. In any case, if she is such fascinating company, why did you phone me up?"

"Kristine doesn't play games with me. As it happens, she'd invited a female friend round for the night."

"Oh, girls night in, is it?" Francesca said in cold dismissive tones. This conversation had ended up all about Kristine instead of being a playful conversation about the two of them.

"Would you believe me if I said that she's sleeping with her?" John said in studied ambiguous tones. He was sure that Francesca Rochester wouldn't spot the double bluff and her tinkling laughter proved it to the hilt. He had to concede that Francesca Rochester did make another lonely night more bearable so he had that to be grateful for.


	4. Chapter 4

Mel lay in a state of fuzzy uncertainties midway between shaky wakefulness and the dead peace of sleep. She sensed herself moving slightly in the tightly limited space in which she felt confined and reached out for her trademark black leather jacket, the garment that toughened up her outer layer and made herself feel good about herself. It was when she felt more certain of her senses and her eyelids flickered open when a wave of depression rolled over her. She had been landed totally in the shit from the moment the cops brutally burst through her front door and had busted her and now she had sunk so low she wondered if she'd ever break surface again. The ensuing horror drained all the natural bravado out of her or what she had assumed was natural to her. Here she was, Mel Bridges, her rock and roll exterior, both as one time musician and drug dealer, stripped bare down to the well brought up little girl and naked for all to see- and she was highly aware of the brutal women who roamed the landings. She'd always had well developed survival instincts and, right now, was stuck for solutions.

Her prison induction had been carried out by a formidable battleaxe, name of Frances Myers, whose military demeanour and knack of barking out orders to all and sundry strongly reminded her of her old school teachers. This time around, she was inclined to check her out, lie low, nod and smile at everything she said and get the hell out of there. Even though she was on remand, it had been made clear to her that it was only a matter of time before she was banged to rights. She'd been allowed to keep her leather jacket but she certainly didn't feel very rock and roll. She might as well have been wearing her school uniform as she sat down in her lowly chair while she was being lectured to on high. Shortly after her admission to prison, Frances Myers had had her transferred to a single cell as if to make sure she didn't contaminate her cell-mate. She had made it clear when she was called into her office in an offhand fashion that she was watching her every step in case she transferred the centre of her her drugs cartel to Larkhall, something that was farthest from her thoughts. Ruefully, Mel couldn't complain personally about the deal as her cell-mate was aggressive and gave her the creeps but it did add to her sense of isolation.

"So you might feel like talking to some of the girls sometime? Not so tough now?" Julie Saunders's voice broke into her thoughts as Mel had absent-mindedly sat at her table and reached hungrily for a cigarette. The fair-haired woman's furrowed eyebrows and wary expression concealed her internal deliberations as to what sort of a woman had joined them. She had a tough looking exterior but the rest of her didn't add up.

"I never thought I was tough. I've worn leather jackets since I started playing in a rock band in my teens," Mel said with a disarmingly nervous smile.

"We've never heard of you," Julie Johnson said in a softer tone of voice than her friend spoke. She'd caught a flicker of fear behind this woman's wary eyes. They were all like that to begin with, she thought in a bitter-sweet moment as she thought of the stream of women who'd

"It's not for the want of trying. We wanted to play honest rock and roll but we came up against sleazy agents who wanted us to take our knickers off or who laughed at us for not looking glossy, not marketable enough," Mel said, her expression shadowing as bad memories of the past failed to stay on lock down.

"I mean we ain't seen you on Top of the Pops," Julie Johnson said in her sweetest most innocent manner. Mel burst into unexpected laughter at the words this woman conjured up. She'd heard how these two women had been on the game so Julie Johnson's endearing innocence had a surprising charm about her. An absurd image came to her mind of standing in the midst of the tacky glamour of the show, the showbiz smiles, artificial mike-stand in front of her and being forced to lip-synch their latest hit. Her world had been one of sweaty clubs, slamming out thunderous rock and roll, lights shining into her eyes and ogling the open shirt and soft breasts of some luscious lovely in the front row, arms stretched out beseechingly to her. These memories summoned up the pain of lost pleasures. All the while the two Julies looked on and saw a different side to this rather stuck up woman who had kept herself to herself. Although she wasn't breathing a word as to how come she'd been held on remand, the Julies had their own way of finding out that she'd been caught dealing drugs. The two women were philosophical about the fellow inmates they came across and had developed sharp antennas as to who to trust and who to distrust. They sized up this woman with expert eyes and decided that Mel Bridges wasn't necessarily all she seemed but she was basically OK.

"That was a long time ago- unfortunately," Mel replied at last. With time to contemplate, she realised that dealing drugs gave her the buzz and money she'd originally hoped she'd got from rock and roll so that playing music with Jo Mills wasn't altogether a sham. Jo was briefly there right at the beginning but she was pretty certain that Jo wouldn't see it that way. Another wave of hopeless nostalgia broke over her to be dissipated- she remembered the passionate nights Jo Mills spent with her. It was a pity she hadn't appreciated them better at the time than she did now as Jo recalled a time when both were pure and innocent..

It wasn't till later on after she'd finished breakfast when her faculties started returning to normal and she recalled an obscure corner of the prison rules that said she had a right to a guitar as in cell entertainment. She figured out that this would give her something to focus on.

In a pleasant part of Hackney, Nikki worked away on her computer with studious concentration on her latest piece of research for the Howard League of Penal Reform. She enjoyed moments like this when she could focus in tight on her intellectual objectives with total precision in her congenial office room. She wasn't unmindful of the dangers of intellectual charity and of becoming detached from the real life women that were her concern, warts and all. She'd found out that periodic discussions with Kristine Thorne, the blind lecturer at the University of London meant that her academic prowess in that area kept her feet on the ground. She'd just spell checked the document after first giving it a once over in terms of her phrasing when she sensed that she wasn't alone. Normally, she was kept company by the silver framed close up photograph of her partner Helen Stewart with a broad smile on her face, green leaves from an overhead branch glancing down on her.

"Hey Paul, I guess you've got another assignment for me," Nikki said brightly, turning her head to see her boss and good friend Paul Armstrong bearing down meaningfully on her.

"How did you know? I thought you only got into mind-reading for a hobby," joked Paul as his thoughts paralleled her words.

"I've worked with you long enough to know your ways," joked Nikki back at him in an easy going fashion.

"I'm relaxed about you reading my mind but I don't know how the bit you didn't notice will grab you. I want you to do follow up research on Larkhall Prison to the one you did well over a year ago," Paul answered lightly.

A chill silence fell upon the room as Nikki's features froze. Inside her head was a swirling concoction of hot and cold emotions which pumped through her nervous system. She remembered the gleeful satisfaction with which she'd pitilessly dissected the monstrosity that was HMP Larkhall and the vengeful cold spite with which the establishment had pursued Helen with the Official Secrets Act and the way it took George and Jo's combined skills to dash to pieces the terrifying smoke and mirrors horror visions that had frightened them both.

"Do you want time to think about it? If it helps, the management committee OK'd this but left the option of you doing it in your hands,"Paul said softly.

"Yes please," said Nikki shortly. After a few minutes, a rush of words came out of her mouth as she realised that she hadn't given Paul the slightest hint of what was troubling her."I need to think twice before going back into the lion's den but give me a day or so to mull this over and then we'll talk."

Paul smiled warmly hat his friend. He knew that letting Nikki deal with things her way worked best by a mile.

"How's Helen getting on these days?"

"She's fine. She's at the stage when she can feel our baby kicking and, knowing the heredity, she's not getting a great deal of rest. She blames me from time to time for getting her pregnant. She loves it all really. We've been seeing the inside of Mother Care when I never knew that such a shop existed," Nikki said with a serene smile, her face glowing with pride.

"You'll be fine, believe me," Paul Williams said, not being the first time he'd given such reassurance. Nikki grinned back at Paul for his infinite thoughtfulness. She couldn't help thinking that if Paul had been born a woman, he'd have had the pick of any woman at Chix but she suppressed the idea of vocalising such a thought. It went too far, even for her. His intervention meant that her next project could be consigned as pending business, waiting until she could talk to Helen about it. Hiss good wishesweren't chiched platitudes but his kind-hearted acceptance that hers and Helen's plans for parenthood was the most natural idea in the world.

As George crossed the threshold of hers and Alice's home after a hard fought day in court, slightly windswept but her make-up immaculate, she saw Alice standing rigid, holding a crisply legal letter in her hand. At once, she put two and two together besides greeting her lover with a kiss.

"It was only a matter of time darling," she said in her most soothing tones, looping her arm around the taller woman's shoulder and nuzzling up to her. Alice gratefully slipped her arms round her lover's waist. She loved George's particular blend of caring honesty."Whatever it is, we'll deal with it."

Wordlessly, Alice moved them to their settee, the home of many an intimate occasion and George took her place alongside her, scanning the letter rapidly.

"What I still don't understand is why the CPS are still going after Becky Elliott. It's not as if she's a communist subversive," George said tactfully. Alice knew that George loathed her ex's guts, spiced with her dormant fear of her resuming her malign influence on Alice with her damsel in distress routine. She smiled warmly and kissed George deeply.

"Now to business," George said as Alice laid herself sideways across the sofa, looking up at George's finely carved features, all the more attractive as the lights had been turned down low and intimate. She reached for her silver cigarette case and lit up, her preliminary for deep thinking.

"It helps to play devil's advocate sometimes so we can see both sides of the argument, darling. I learnt it from handling civil cases." George said at last, exhaling an elegant trail of smoke."What sticks out like a sore thumb is how inept the case is. If I've got it right, your evidence could so easily be turned around from defence to prosecution and back again. In other words, either party could have stabbed the other so why on earth are the CPS pursuing such a case? Even a half-trained monkey could see that."

George's words hung in the air while Alice deliberated. Lying on her back helped.

"Do they really care who is convicted so long as it's someone?" Alice said slowly at last after wrenching her mind away from her all too ready sympathies as Becky's mother was a psychotic by any standards."Can they say it's six of one and half a dozen of the other like quarrelling kids?"

George turned white. The thought hadn't occurred to her. It was certainly possible for a sick mind to think that way of Becky Elliott's forthcoming trial but it threw up another question.

"But why? It's so motiveless."

"This may sound weird but couldn't this be the establishment's attempt to get at you via me? From what you've told me, the LCD have tried to do down John Deed and Jo Mills so why not you? After all, you've become a thorn in their side for the past few years and we've been pretty open about our relationship."

George looked horror stricken at this shocking but credible revelation. Of course Alice was right. Now it was Alice's turn to move up against George and hold her in her arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Jo Mills felt that she was floundering helplessly through life after the dreadful shock of Mel Bridges arrest and this had precipitated her profound depression. All her existence was tediously slow-paced and lacking any meaning. She ruefully considered that her house had never looked so pristine sparkling and in perfect order than it had looked for months. She would cheerfully swap it former carefree untidiness as it meant that her eager thrill of anticipated pleasures whenever she got home meant the delights of the flesh and emotional completion at Mel's house. In the past, life was pedal down to the floorboards and living in the fast lane compared with being sidelined into dreary B roads of life. as she listlessly polished her front windows which looked onto the respectability all around her, she felt old and tired before her time, living a life of quiet desperation that was oh so British. A stray thought passed through her mind that it was more than two months since she'd slept with Mel and visions of their sexual acrobatics felt that they belonged to another life, another person. She instantly quashed that thought and gave her windows one last feverish polish before considering the next pointless activity that she'd signed up to.

On Thursday morning, she prepared for work feeling that she was just about clinging on with her fingernails but her cases brought no sense of inspiration that once they had done. She even wondered if she was really the same woman whose inspired performance had once succeeded against the odds in wiping Nikki Wade's reduced conviction for manslaughter to nothing. Her bitter conclusion was that she had lost the inspiration she once had and therefore her sense of purpose in life since her personal life was also in ruins. She would have to carry on as a drudge and bring home the bacon as what alternative was there in her life? Jo's secretary threw her a glance as she trudged in with a heavy, dispirited footfall and knew that the situation was unchanged. She was hoping to God that something or someone would snap Jo out of this dispirited mood which was just as bad as her dishevelled, ecstatically in love former persona. Certainly the cases that were coming their way were nondescript, run of the mill cases which gave her no reflected pleasure.

By contrast, John Deed was cruising effortlessly through life in the full knowledge that those who emotionally sustained him might not be in close contact but they were there. He thought it was only natural that Helen and Nikki's energies were directed towards the baby they were expecting that as an afterthought, he realised modestly that he'd contributed to via IVF. The chances of time would renew their contact without any of them planning anything as strong friendships like theirs were impossible to break. The process of court hearings put him into contact with George and their friendship hadn't been changed a jot by the one night they'd slept together the previous December when she'd had a fallout with Alice over Becky Elliott.

He remembered the way she'd sidled into his chambers with a meaning look after the trial when she'd trounced Neumann Mason-Alan. She accepted a drink and cut to the chase.

"I thought we should talk John,"

"That sounds ominous. I thought we'd cleared the air before I sneaked you out of the digs." George dismissed his placatory half smile with a wave of her hand.

"It didn't go far enough. You know what I'm going to say. What happened the other night stays the other night. I'm not immune to your male charms but my future is with Alice. We've made peace and we're deeply in love with each other. She appeals to me emotionally as much as she does for obvious reasons, more that I could ever imagine. Besides, I'm certainly not going to be the other woman," George continued, italicising the last three words which the sharp-eyed John knew was her habit."Jo was in that position when we were married and I hated her and the position she was in and you did the same to Jo as you did to me after we separated."

"I accept everything you say George. So long as our friendship is never lost," John said softly, looking directly at George.

"You've come a long way John Deed," George said affectionately, leaning forward and kissing him on his forehead."At one time you would have still tried to charm me into bed. Nikki and Helen have certainly influenced you for the better."

"They have George. The straight and narrow it is for the future," John said laughing.

"In which case, I'll have another drink," George retorted pertly.

After this, everything was plain sailing between them. John wished the same applied for Jo but he knew better. Their relationship was always conjectural, he ruefully admitted but, because of their distance that dated from the Howard League for Penal Reform AGM, John knew that whatever distance there was between them wasn't his fault. He remembered last December extricating Jo from the clutches of the police investigation into one Melanie Bridges, suspected drugs dealer and also Jo's lover. After thanking him briefly, she dropped into a depressive, distant silence outside the courtroom. In their professional dealings, John could see that the sparkle and verve had gone out of Jo's performances and Brian Cantwell the scoring advantages off her. When the lesser talented Neumann Mason-Alan did the same at Jo's most recent trial, John was prompted to act.

"Jo, I want to have a friendly conversation with you," John said in hesitant tones as Jo was gathering in her untidy pile of papers that were in danger of sliding loose.

"What about?" Jo demanded, spinning round with a none too friendly tone of voice.

"It's about your future. I'm concerned about you."

"Well don't be. I'm not even sure I want a career when I see all the cynics who sell their souls for a fat fee,"Jo retorted.

John knew that there was something in what Jo was saying but she was rationalising her own emotions. As someone who was a past master in this art form who had foresworn his ways, John could see right through his friend. A stray thought caught him wondering if this was the way Nikki and Helen first saw him up close and personal what seemed to be a lifetime ago.

"You shouldn't want to throw away everything you've worked hard for all these years since I first knew you. You've done so much good with your work," John urged softly. Instantly he spoke, he knew he'd made a mistake. He'd pressed the hyperactive red button marked 'guilt.'

"You don't know that I'm a million miles away from you. Go and have a friendly chat with George. You know you both like it. If you don't mind, I've other places to be."

As Jo stalked off, still struggling with her papers, John put his head in his hands.

The fading sound of Jo's angry rapid heels clicking on the tiled floor of the foyer marked her exit from the court from an environment that was tarnished in her eyes. In opting to be anywhere else, she suddenly remembered that she needed a few things from the supermarket on her way home. She slung her dead files in the back seat of her car and zoomed off, narrowly cutting across the front of an innocent fellow motorist. She grabbed a basket, mouthed the list of extra items she wanted and went feverishly round the aisles. She just rounded the corner where the tea and coffee selection was stacked and bumped into a blond haired woman bent on a similar purpose. In a split second, the two women exchanged a shock of recognition.

"You?" was all that Jo could say, conscious that it didn't sound good.

"This is an interesting place to meet, Jo Mills. Shame that this date is a bit late," drawled Jane Lancaster with more perfect self-possession than she imagined she could ever conjure up. Jo had the grace to blush at having not shown up for their date after their romantic meeting at Chix last December.

"I apologise for my bad manners. I know I ought to have contacted you," Jo stumbled, her stiffness choking her voice. She was disconcerted to realise that she'd set herself up to be frankly spoken to. Jane leant back on her high heels, her tight top and firm breasts visible between her unbuttoned overcoat

"Just for one evening, you'd succeeded in throwing away your hangups. We should have either slept together that first night or done it on our date. If we had, something that feels good would have rubbed off on you," Jane retorted with a smile on her face. This mixture of rebuke and sexual invitation threw Jo into a state of further confusion.

"Everyone makes mistakes," she said evasively.

"If you want me, you'll have to win me and you have competition. You should try going to Chix. I've got to rush but I've one last thought. Deep down, you're a real babe if you'd only act on it."

With that last parting shot, Jane twirled around and was gone past the frozen foods section, leaving Jo in a state of bedazzlement.

Trisha sat in front of their dressing table mirror, elegantly wielding a hairbrush as she swept her blond hair into a shapely chignon and finally slid the hair clasps into place.

""How do I look babe?" she asked of her partner Sally Anne who was lounging in their bed and was looking on in fascination. She loved the way Trisha's hair as it fell over her shoulders but she was equally struck by the way that this style accentuated her straight nose and carved features. She burst out into spontaneous clapping . Trisha's smile was both bashful and pleased as her lover's strong support. The idea had been lurking around in her mind and she suddenly chose this Wednesday morning to try it out in the precious time between sleeping off their late night from running Chix and when they'd have to get ready for their next night.

"I borrowed the idea from George. I'm so pleased you like the look. I'll try it out for Saturday night."

"It's a shame we don't see Nikki and Helen so much these days- for them to admire it," Sally replied in a disconsolate tone of voice with a lift at the end. This thought had been very much on her mind but she didn't want to spoil the party on the other hand.

"I know Nik of old," laughed Trisha reassuringly."She absolutely dedicates herself to what needs doing, whether building up Chix with me all those years ago or being a second mother to be with Helen. She doesn't forget old friends and Helen's a naturally gregarious soul. She and Helen will come around sooner or later. It's just that they'll have less spare time on their hands."

Immediately, the mood was lightened.

"Come here, I want you," Sally said, her arms outstretched and letting the duvet slip to her waist. Trisha gladly complied with her partner's desires.

As the days edged closer to when Alice was due to take the stand, she sensed that neither of them had really faced up to the catastrophic events that had led to George charging off into the night and sleeping with John. She'd finally reappeared in the early morning and they'd been nice and accommodating with each other, quite an accomplishment for her as she'd drunk way more straight whisky that evening as a mind anaesthetic. They'd never gone into the details so they covered everything up and been nice to each other or so an inner voice started whispering inside Alice's mind. This matter showed how both women tended to diverge, George regarding this as business disposed off and that time would heal wounds and Alice's inclination to talk things out. It all came down to their professions. Nevertheless, Alice questioned whether dragging the bandages off old wounds really helped the situation

"There's something that's been on my mind with the trial coming up that I want your help with," Alice started to say nervously. There was something about the way the dark-haired woman spoke that put George on her guard.

"I am all ears," George said as they sat down on the sofa.

"I think we've both got unfinished emotional business over Becky Elliott. We never talked it through properly and I don't think it's safe to leave it like that with the trial in the offing," Alice continued in an uncertain fashion.

"What is there to say? The way Becky Elliott seemed to draw you like a magnet after all the games she played made me loathe her guts. I know I went off at the deep end over you going over to see Becky and what I did was unforgivable. It is a black episode in my life I prefer not to think about. I thought by then I knew better," George said in rapid stream of words that wanted to see the matter dead and buried for all time.

Alice took her partner's hand and gently stroked it. The soft touch was the only thing that reassured the blond haired woman right then.

"Darling, Becky Elliott might have unconsciously been trying to drive a wedge between us. She is narcissistic enough to feel that I was on call to help her and you didn't matter because you were in her way. It was so easy for the social worker in me to get sucked in and I let it. I always felt that what you did was understandable," Alice urged softly with words that she conjured up from nowhere and only at that moment did her situation become clear and defined.

"You knew I was with John?" George found herself saying, her eyes looking down. Both women were wrestling with the unspoken words that Alice had been emotionally unfaithful while George had been physically unfaithful.

"I can't explain it to myself my strange feeling that I needn't feel insecure that you were going back to men and start raging and ranting. I knew that it was a one off and at least you were being looked after."

A curious feeling came over George as she suddenly found out that an up rush of emotions were choking her and she was suddenly crying. Her first instinct was to wipe the tears from her eyes but she failed. She suddenly felt a pair of soft arms were suddenly holding her and she physically let herself go. She couldn't remember the last time she'd behaved in this way and somehow knew this was necessary- for all the occasions she'd bottled up her emotions. Suddenly, she looked through a fragment of sight and realised that it was Alice who was her comforter.

"Darling, you've started me crying as well," her muffled tones said as George knew that she felt quite as guilty as George did. The tender hearted Alice had never imagined, let alone seen George ever cry before and her instinct to heal and nurture came to the fore. Along with this burst of emotion, her own sense of guilt rose to the surface and tears ran down her face and into her long dark hair as they hugged each other for comfort and gained a sense of release. A little voice in George's mind surprised her in whispering that tears were better than anger- until this point in her life, she'd have never believed it. Only now did they realise their own background sense of tension that had lurked inside each of them, unable to talk to each other for all there months.


	6. Chapter 6

Nikki was in the kind of mood to feel the cold grey weather outside her car as she drove forth to work, rain spattering fiercely onto her windscreen. It was a morning like any other morning but, these days, she kissed Helen goodbye in the hall of their home. In earlier days, either one of them dropped the other off at work when the goodbye kiss took place before whoever was the driver went on elsewhere. The change came quite some time ago when Helen had started on unpaid maternity leave and the reality of changes in their life were coursing through her system. at least for the time being, Nikki was the sole provider and it scared her. Since she'd been living with Helen these last few years, she'd been used to having plenty of spare money to spend as they pleased just like when she'd lived with Trisha. Before then, life as a single woman wasn't too hard that she'd had to think twice about spending. The only exception to this was her three years in Larkhall Prison when the pitiful amount to spend in the prison shop was counterbalanced by zero financial responsibility. Gaining extra responsibility alongside a cut in their income was a completely different proposition and it scared her.

"Don't worry sweetheart," Helen had said the other night, soft arms wound around the taller woman's neck."I know your parents are dying to help out with everything from nappies to prams. They're genuinely thrilled for our good fortune and can't wait to be grandparents all over again."

Nikki's half smile and automatic response concealed a wealth of confused emotions. of course, her practically minded self knew that they could do with all the help they could get but an unreasoning stubborn pride came to the surface. She found it hard to put it into words but it came down to reluctance to accept handouts, not after her years of independence. She'd worked hard to re-establish herself in her new career and was doing well, she thought to herself as she turned sharp right at the traffic lights. However, that wouldn't pay the bills, she thought ruefully. She was conflicted all right.

Another worry floated across her mind while her depressed and gloomy frame of mind prevailed. The fact that, objectively, she was doing really well in her life wasn't something she could make feel real to her. Helen's pregnancy was visibly advancing despite the maternity smocks she wore and it made her worry that, just at the last minute, things could go wrong with a miscarriage at the last minute. The very word had a terribly terminal feel about it and it constrained the way she behaved.

Back at home, Helen's eyebrows knitted as she felt Nikki's silence and her down mood and wondered what it signified. Nikki was always so open about herself.

Jo finally turned the key to her front door on a dark February evening, while freezing rain sheeted down, making loud pattering sounds on her umbrella overhead as hard driven drops bounced off the thin plastic surface. She wrenched open the door and pushed forwards into her front room, slamming the door behind her with feverish intensity. She dropped the still open umbrella onto the kitchen sink to let it drain dry and flopped down into the settee. She was exhausted and, what made it worse, she suspected that work had its advantage in insulating her from intrusions into her life that she might have cause to fear. It kept her secure even though it felt arid and unfulfilled right now- at least it protected her from those lost moments at three in the morning when her feelings surfaced and expressed themselves only too clearly. Battening down the emotional hatches was something she was only too skilled at doing. She lay in this limbo state while the sound of the rain beating against the front window panes created a curiously comforting sound.

Suddenly, the phone rang out shrilly, shattering the mood of thoughtless reverie. Curious, she picked up the phone suspecting that the person on the other end of the line could be an irritating cold caller. a series of beeps gave way to a voice right out of her recently distanced past and it pumped up a maelstrom of fear and panic round her nervous system.

"Oh Hi, Jo. Long time no hear," came that very familiar casual voice that once pulled her wherever it wanted her to be. There was hardly a trace of nervousness though, in reality, its owner stood by the wall inside the perspex bubble attached to a yellow painted rough brick wall while assorted voices created competing waves of conversations. Mel really was nervous as she was all too conscious that the response might be piss off or the phone slammed down. "I meant to phone you before but,hey, you know how it is."

"I know exactly how it is, Mel Bridges," hissed back Jo. "You're held on remand for supplying class A drugs till your trial comes up. I'm far too associated with you at the time for my liking though I was entirely innocent. I shouldn't be even speaking to you."

"Hey Jo, chill out. I only wanted you to get me a guitar. I'm starting to go crazy without my music," Mel protested in her best cajoling tone of voice.

"I'm sure you can't play electric guitar in prison. It's bound to be held by the police anyway,"Jo retorted shortly.

"Er no," Mel confessed, sounding nervous for the first time Jo had ever known in her life.""I wondered if you can buy a cheap acoustic for me. I've checked with the prison rules and it says you can. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"With what? I know very well from criminal cases I've handled that your bank accounts are sure to be frozen. Forget it," Jo snapped, slamming her phone down hard. A split second visual flash of Mel's ripe breasts disobediently disturbed her drive for mental control of herself. On the other end of the phone, the television got suddenly rowdier as Big Brother started up and the watching crowd cheered. Mel gave this up as a bad job, dejectedly holding onto the phone with no one in the queue behind her. It would have to be her estranged mother, she resolved, annoyed at being blocked and knowing very well that she'd get an earful bashing about how she'd thrown away a good education after all her mother had done for her.

"So what's your next project, sweetheart?" Helen asked as she heaved herself to her feet with an effort as Nikki had slung her overcoat and scarf on the coat-hook in the hallway."I'll never complain again about carrying in the shopping up the steps from the car," she added for the tenth time in less than that number of days.

"Er, I was going to discuss it with you as you're indirectly connected with it," Nikki replied nervously, grasping the opportunity to broach the subject as it arose. Helen raised her well marked eyebrows questioningly.

"How do you mean? I left Larkhall Prison ages ago."

"That's just it. I've been asked to do a follow up study on my original report I did a year or so ago," Nikki answered with elaborate casualness.

There was a shocked silent for a moment that felt like hours, a pregnant pause as a portion of Nikki's mind randomly thought. Both were thinking of the occasion when Nikki's first scathing denunciation of the evil machinations of Larkhall Prison brought down vengeance of the government on Helen via the Official Secrets Act on the basis that she must have given Nikki inside information. As they both relived the nightmare of waiting for the trial, Helen quite understandably replied in a faint voice.

"I think I'll sit down."

"I'll help you darling," Nikki offered warmly. A little later, her out of focus vision saw a small slim white tubular shape before her eyes. It was a cigarette that Helen was passing over to her with a lighter in her other hand. This was extraordinarily generous of Helen , considering that Nikki had been painfully and uncomplainingly cutting down on several decades of nicotine addiction ready for the birth of their child. She lit up gratefully.

"This came entirely from Paul via the management meeting. After the shit we both landed in last time, they're giving me the option of refusal. No pressure, hey."

"No pressure my foot. I know how effective moral dues and demands can be. Years of living in a manse with my father in far off Scotland educated me to that one."

"I need to find out who's running the show these days- that is if I do go ahead with the project. Grayling, Di Barker, Fenner and Bodybag are a poisonous combination before I even consider the prisoners...," Nikki started to say in a jerky, rapid delivery as thought jumped around in a completely unpremeditated fashion.

"Fenner's dead," came Helen's smart rejoinder. "June last year if I remember rightly."

This took Nikki completely aback. She shook her head in bewilderment. It showed that she wasn't thinking with her cool-headed researching mind that she devoted to other projects and feelings of self-doubt assailed her.

"Never mind about your slip of the mind. You're thinking of dipping your toe in the water, test out the ground. What if the rest of the gang are still there?"

Nikki gulped. She feared that the tenacious-minded Scot would get to the hear of the matter. Finally, she threaded her thoughts together as if by a magic process that was a stranger to her.

"Let me think. Last time, I couldn't wait to get stuck in and dish the dirt. Except for you, no one knew the snake-pit like me and could put together a report that exposed its rottenness. I wanted to slay it with words and, yeah, we did get more than we bargained for. The upside is that the report has never been refuted so it sets a benchmark. All I have to do is to build on what's there and, you never know, it might have got better..."

Helen laughed out loud at the impish grin with which her partner closed off her verbal dissertation.

"Besides," Nikki added softly looking at her partner's spreading waist and laying her hand tenderly on it for signs of independent life. She was only too aware that the future of their unborn child was at stake and knew that she'd moved a long way since she was single and there was only herself to harm by any rash actions. Helen smiled up at her concerned lover, so wanting to do the right thing and, sure enough, she saw the gradual spread of illumination spread across her features.

The landlines in George's living room disturbed the tranquillity of her evening in with Alice. It seemed to ring more insistently, more demandingly than usual. For once, neither of them were doing any work and both of them were sprawled out on the sofa, half-undressed and feeling very lazy, warmed inside by a gentle glow.

"Oh hell, I wonder who that might be?" George said in an irritated fashion, her arm reaching behind her to grab the instrument unconstrained by the undone buttons on her shirt.

"George Channing," George said crossly until a warm smile spread across her face. "Oh hello Nikki. It's lovely to hear from you.".

"I haven't caught you at a bad moment?" asked a very polite Nikki. "I'd be grateful for some straightforward legal advice."

"Alice and I are only wondering whether or not to go to bed and do what comes naturally only we're feeling really lazy."

"Too lazy for sex?" asked an incredulous Nikki. George laughed loudly at Nikki's immortal line, stimulating Alice's curiosity as she heard one end of the conversation.

"Never mind being coy about asking me a question, Nikki. You know how inquisitive I am and I hate guessing games. Think of Alice as she's as bad as me,"

"I've been asked by the management committee to do a follow up of my original investigation into the running of Larkhall Prison and, knowing that it took you and Jo to haul Helen and I out of the mess, we thought we'd check you out first. I might have phoned Jo Mills but I'm not sure how we stand with her these days."

"Would you agree to letting me have a draft copy of the report before it hits the press? You are taking a risk that I might advise you to leave bits and and pieces out and not because you'd be wrong. In effect, I'd become your legal editor and, in any case, I'm not a guaranteed expert of the borderline psychotics who infest the administration even though I once loved with one?" George pronounced instantly with no attempt to sugar the pill. She knew anyway that Nikki responded best to the hard truth.

"Who else would I have more faith in this area- and Jo Mills when she's thinking straight?" Nikki said softly, smiling slightly at the droll way she put it.

"In that case, it's a deal," exclaimed a pleased George."If you don't mind, Alice is starting to touch my breasts so you've done me a big favour in return when we could have ended up watching some dreadful TV programme."

Nikki laughed at George's witty rejoinder and signed off, feeling happier. She knew that this would settle Helen's obvious and sensible reservations and, come to think of it, she didn't fancy the potential legal aggravation either, having had her fair share of trouble in her time.

The brief phone call from Mel from out of the blue had thrown Jo into a complete tizzy for the rest of the evening. It forced her against her will to re-examine her view of her affair with Mel Bridges. As soon as she'd got over the shock of going down to Mel's place and found it cordoned off by the police and realised that Mel had been busted for a major drugs haul, she'd immediately jumped to the conclusion that, all this time, Mel had been using her as simple as that. Her anger had become incandescent and linked to a principled conclusion that everything in Mel Bridges. all the sweet words and evocations of their shared youth, had been bullshit, pure and simple. Now the treacherous thoughts started to sneak their way past her guard that it wasn't as simple as all that. The sound of Mel's voice did it for her, light and breezy and daring to be real and not burdened down with self-imposed duties. Her relationship with Mel had always been like this from when they were schoolgirls, Jo thought to herself.

She reached for her bottle of whisky, poured a generous measure and knocked it back, eager for the familiar relaxing sensations to course through her body and take away her tensions and deliver her along the stages of altered consciousness. There were times when she needed a drink or two and this was one of them, she told herself. After all, this was the first time she'd thought of Mel since the investigating policewoman dropped the bombshell on her of her criminality. After being taken round to Nikki and Helen's flat, she'd obliterated any thought of Mel Bridges from her consciousness and got on with her own life.

When she thought about it, she'd never asked Mel what she did for a living and Mel hadn't volunteered anything. All the time Jo had gone up to the big city, day in day out, to labour mightily over her court cases, she had vaguely imagined Mel to be in a disembodied state from the morning when she'd left the bed they'd shared until she came back to her place in the evening. It started to cross her mind that the police must have had Mel's house under surveillance possibly for a month or two from some adjacent property. Suddenly, she recalled the boarded up local store on the end of the council estate which she'd idly gazed at while making a bee line for Mel's front door. She started to see that all the comings and goings had been closely scrutinised, including her own. she recalled how she'd been grilled by an unexpectedly sharp-witted police investigator while John Deed sat in and she had been eliminated from the enquiries after she'd made a hasty statement. Since then, she'd hadn't heard a thing and wanted it kept that way.

As the living room started to confuse Jo with its swimming motions and the horizon tilted in a random fashion, her internal confusions weren't so easily disposed of. A random thought crossed Jo's mind as if she were viewing herself from an exterior perspective that by nature, she was a great one for getting involved, something to be proud of. Even when she was younger, she used to accompany her father to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and give him the encouragement to break away from the dependency he'd slid into without really thinking and tackle his own problems. She'd married conventionally enough, born two sons and carried on with her career and, when her husband had been diagnosed with cancer, taken more of the family burdens on her shoulders. It was no wonder when she was looking for something to ease the strain she'd been under that she'd become sexually involved with the magnetic John Deed who had been her pupil-master at bar school who had been a guiding light in her vocation from its very start. She'd been shocked to discover herself pregnant and, when John had driven her to the abortion clinic, that had ended their affair. It was fortunate that both of them had been mature enough to retain the long standing friendship and mutual appreciation society that had led to her string of high profile cases that had made her name as a hard-working and committed crusader for justice. She'd even examined the latest print of case-law volumes to see that the famous Nikki Wade re appeal case two years previously had been cited as an amplification of the principle of 'in defence of another.'

Now her life had been changed as she'd become sexually involved with her old school-friend, Mel Bridges. Once she'd been arrested and held on remand, Jo had vaguely supposed all along that she'd be called as a trial witness sooner or later as she'd invested so much of her time and emotions in her friend's life. As Jo Mills held her empty glass so the light glinted off the crystal angles, it dawned on her that this wasn't the case. The police hadn't contacted her since she'd made the statement and Mel had only contacted her in all these months to get her hands on a guitar. The more Jo thought about it as she slumped back in her armchair, the weirder the situation appeared. Unless she was called as a trial witness, she was not involved and was free to go about her business, private or public. She was only left with her two teenage children who were living their lives far apart and her conjectural relationships with John Deed and George Channing and her personal missed opportunity with one Jane Lancaster. The overhead lights spun around in a faster state of confusion to match the way Jo felt right now as the way she'd always lived her life had unaccountably twisted around itself.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite George's desire to keep her distance from the upcoming Becky Elliott trial, she couldn't help but use her contacts to keep tabs on it for her own peace of mind. First and foremost, she found out that Brian Cantwell would conduct the defence and it brought a curious smile to her face. Both she and Jo Mills had crossed swords with him in the series of Larkhall Prison based trials and he'd been the loser every time. She knew that it wasn't wholly to his discredit as he'd been let down by shifty,unreliable witnesses, the gung ho establishment mentality in the form of the loathsome Neil Haughton. Left to himself, the man was a money driven cynic with his share of prejudices but was quick-witted and capable of using any advantage that came his way, fair or unfair. His opposite number, Neumann Mason-Alan was of lesser substance, without finesse in his heavy footed approach and far too prone to make leading questions. With great relief, she noted that Monty Everard was to be the trial judge, a bluff no nonsense man whose British Bulldog exterior concealed a strong disinclination to play the establishment game. George remembered with affection how he and John Deed had once got happily drunk one evening in the judge's digs with Nikki and Helen.

What she was less sure of was Alice's position which was certainly not helped by her ambiguous perspective on the knife fight which saw her ex-lover's mother being injured and receiving wounding criticism for not backing out of a case where she had had personal involvement with the family. She could feel tension radiating off Alice as the trial date grew nearer ever more real and not some abstract event in the future. As Alice wasn't talking about it in a tight-lipped fashion, she resolved that it was down to her to do so, whatever her solicitor might have advised her. After all, this was her specialism. Their recent clearing the air over their emotional shipwreck over Alice's running around after Becky's emotional traumas which had precipitated George's one night stand with John hadn't built the sort of durability that could deal with such a knife-edged trial .When it came down to it, there was never the right moment to talk and the days were ticking away to the trial date set irrevocably for Monday March 10th 2003, a bare two weeks away..

Finally, after a trial of hers had finished a little early, George zoomed back to the sanctuary feel of home and a cup of tea. The thought was irresistible and she deployed her best china teapot and tray with milk and sugar and with a sigh of relief, sat back and sipped slowly. She had halfway finished the cup when the door opening announced Alice blowing in from the cold blasts of air outside. She flung off her long dark coat and dropped her briefcase and immediately, the aroma wafted in her direction and brought a smile to her face. For the first time in days, only the two women were there.

"I don't know what's more welcome right now darling, your welcome home kiss or your nice cup of tea," Alice said softly.

"Why choose? You know how greedy I am. Let's kiss first," George said in the most seductive tones that she could conjure up. At the back of her mind were the words, it's now or never. Without further ado, Alice settled into the smaller woman's lap and they exchanged a long, deep tender kiss of the kind they'd not enjoyed for far too long. Besides simple physical pleasure, both women were overjoyed at the feeling of being in sync with each other. As Alice sprawled the length of the settee, looking up at her lover's finely carved features and flowing blond hair, she felt she could conquer her fears enough to talk once she'd asked for a cup of tea from George.

"Of course Alice. Your wish is my command," George drawled, one-handedly reaching to pour another cup of tea that was resting on the nest of tables beside her while clasping Alice's slim fingers with her other hand. Both drank in silence, marvelling at the feeling that barriers between them had suddenly started to dissolve so there could be a halfway decent chance of sitting down together and talk on this very delicate topic. So many thoughts and feelings had swirled around inside each woman's head to no purpose so it took Alice an effort to get into her stride.

"I want your advice darling on the trial I'm giving evidence in. We've cleared the air emotionally but I've lived with you long enough to know this trial needs approaching in the right way and that's what's been stressing me out," Alice started to say haltingly but George kept stroking and massaging her hand and the last barrier came down in her mind and her words. "I mean what I say when I take the stand in the Becky Elliott trial that I want to do it right. I need your help in how to approach it both as my friend and my lover. As you've guessed, my solicitor has been fine with me but I feel you have the ultimate wisdom. Pass me a cigarette while you speak."

George raised her eyebrows as Alice was not a smoker but she complied, reaching for her silver cigarette case for them both. The time taken to smoke meant that when George exhaled the last of her cigarette smoke, it meant that freedom was finally opened up for her to speak as her heart and mind wanted her to. All it took her was how to frame the wise words she needed. This was one of the occasional private moments when she didn't feel as confident as she made others believe but finally her love for Alice enabled her to win through.

"You know that I don't think very fondly of Becky Elliott but, from how you've described her mother, neither do I think that much of her either so you could say I'm impartial," George started in a slow deliberate fashion, gratified by her hand being squeezed by her lover.

"Becky's mother knew exactly what she was doing when she lured you into a situation when her daughter would arrive, thereby precipitating a drama. She grabbed the knife and the two of them fought over it. She certainly started the situation but it's quite another thing as to how either of them wanted to finish it. It's possible that one or both wanted to stab the other because of the festering relationship between them. It's equally possible that one or both of them wanted to disengage herself from the sheer insanity of the situation but feared that she'd be stabbed if she let go. If you want my opinion, it's a case of six of one and a half dozen of the other so and any guilt either way is impossible to prove."

George's lucid analysis in an entirely unexpected direction entranced Alice. She let out a long breath of air in sheer relief, twisted sideways and kissed George in sheer affection. A few seconds later, her face shadowed over as residual worrying thoughts struck her. The blond-haired woman had been expecting this as an entirely reasonable reaction.

"Do you know what's been worrying me the most?"

"I can guess darling," murmured George.

"I've been used to observing, hearing and asking questions as part of my job that I'm scared at being put under the microscope," she confessed.

"Darling, you'll have to be very careful in not letting the prosecuting barrister put words into your mouth- and it could happen with the defence solicitor. If you're asked a question and you honestly don't know the answer, say so. Don't let false pride ever get in your way," George said gently, one arm draped round her lover's shoulders.

Alice nodded in agreement, her eyes watery with emotion in gratitude beyond belief for George's heartfelt perception in being herself rather than others would have her be.

A thought crossed her mind but she wasn't sure how receptive her cookery proud partner would be to her suggestion. Luckily for her, the sharp-eyed George spotted that there was something afoot.

"You have a suggestion. I can read your mind a mile away," George said softly, planting a series of delicate kisses on Alice's neck.

"I'll talk, darling so long as you promise not to shout. I know you so well by now," Alice said, fixing her partner's own sharp perceptions.

"I don't like the sound of this," George said quietly.

"It's like this," Alice said with a sudden burst of confidence."I'm sure that you, like me want plenty of making up for the distance there's been between us. We've both got work tomorrow but we could really do with some sustained luscious sex without thinking of the time. That would get in the way so much."

The slow deliberate way Alice articulated her desires immediately stirred George's libido as did the sight of her lover's full lips and the way her long dark hair flowed over her physical assets.

"The only problem is that we've been talking for a while and I'm hungry- for food- as I'm sure you are as well as for other things so why not order a takeaway meal for one night in our lives. I've heard you say you used to share a takeaway curry in John's digs. Come on, darling, just for one night," Alice pleaded with her most winning look.

This request threw George totally. She hadn't expected that. It went against all her conservative instincts and the chorus of ancestral voices rose up in protest.

"But I never ended up sharing the takeaway. We ended up quarrelling so I spilt the Chinese takeaway on the carpet by mistake and left," stumbled George without being able to select her choice of words. Alice dissolved intro an attack of helpless giggles that was attractive and charming at the same time. Gradually, the voices faded away and George looked at the clock and, yes, ordering a takeaway meal would save time and cut out the washing up. She gazed tenderly at Alice, lying back in the settee and dressed in her favourite white blouse and dark trousers and realised that her sexual desires couldn't be restrained that long. This was a special day in their lives to get their relationship back on track.

"All right Alice. You fix this up but they'd better not give us indigestion or it'll ruin our plans," George said. It was her turn to make the difficult choice so she had to rise to the occasion.

"Thank you darling. I promise you won't regret it. I'll make sure of it," Alice said softly, a seductive edge in her last words that George didn't miss especially as she draped her soft arms around George's shoulders. George sighed to herself and it crossed her mind that she shouldn't have that "stick up her backside" attitude that Jo Mills had been afflicted with for so long.

"I'll hold you to that, see if I don't," George said in mock scolding tones as she realised that only a quickly delivered meal would satisfy her hunger so that she could lovingly enjoy Alice's most intimate places. "You decide what I want and make it quick."

A dazzling smile spread across Alice's face as she got phoning.

George was humming a tune to herself when she and Alice were getting ready to leave the house for work on a blustery but sunny Thursday morning. While Alice felt more at peace with herself than she had these last few weeks, she saw a lurking smile of contentment on her lover's face as she applied her make-up.

"Are you feeling as happy as the day is bright today? I feel that spring is in the air- at least the days are longer," she asked softly, feeling a sense of renewal in her life as she brushed her long dark hair off her shoulders. The fact that the two women were pursuing unrelated activities didn't preclude intimate such conversations as now.

"That's because we've just had the most outrageously sustained evening and night of 'making up' sex and the morning after, you feel the daffodils outside already blooming," George retorted in her most provocative manner as she chatted away inconsequentially.. "It's almost worth the discord to get to well and truly laid, as my daughter Charlie puts it. Not my favourite expression but the only one that comes to mind."

"So what have you got lined up today if you don't mind me asking?" Alice said before she applied her discreet lipstick.

"Nothing could spoil my mood darling, not after such a satisfying night that's also cleared my thinking," George said, visibly glowing all over as she broke off from her make-up and kissed Alice's neck softly. "I'm appearing before Michael Niven on the final day of a case that I'm almost certain to win. Jo Mills is my opposite number and she's really off form these days."

There was a regretful tone in George's tone of voice that Alice's sharpened senses picked up on. "And you want to help? Watch out, my habits are catching," Alice joked lightly, an underlying seriousness that George picked up on.

"She's not been the same since her mad fling with Mel went on the rocks. You saw her at Chix last Christmas. I did think that Jane Lancaster, the original good time girl would take her in hand and get her to have a good uncomplicated relationship and get her to lighten up," came George's surge of words in reply, climaxing in a note of pent up exasperation breaking loose.

"You're fond of her," said Alice softly, as she turned to reach for her long dark coat.

"Yes, I am though we're poles apart. I'm worried about her and I suspect she's drinking more than she should. I owe John's sharp eyes in pointing out that weakness in her. I need to talk to her- after I've delicately ground her into the mud in this case," George said ruefully, carefully adjusting the fit of her dark suit jacket.

"What do you feel about Jo?" Alice queried, inclining her weight against their bedroom door. It was the nonchalant way that Alice carried her gorgeous body that softened her alarmingly pointed question. George let a stream of ideas pour into her head for a few moments before she verbalised them.

"When we were rivals for John, I hated her guts. When I became your lover, I changed my outlook in life and let me feel emotions I'd denied myself in order to be successful. It made me realise that all our antagonisms really meant that we were connected and when we started working together, we got on fine. Now she's taken this weird path, I feel friends enough to want to save her no matter how much we clash. Now that we've sorted out our own little problems, I feel confident enough to talk to her. She knows I'm the one person to tell her the truth no matter how unwelcome it is, no matter how she'll shout at her. Aside from John and me, what other friends has she got?"

The truth of George's last remark couldn't be gainsaid as it stood out in stark illumination.

"In which case, I give you my blessing only don't make my mistake and get too involved."

George laughed uproariously and Alice realised that she'd inadvertently made an

implication that she'd never intended.

"Oh God, I think I know what I've done," Alice said, blushing prettily in a way that George found intensely endearing. "All I'm getting at is that you can only do so much for Jo like I can do for Becky. Only they can sort out their own lives and you can't take it on the chin if they don't listen. Jo is very self-willed, isn't she?"

"As bad as me," George frankly confessed.

"In which case, we'll get going and face the world whatever it throws at us," Alice said softly, her eyes never leaving George's. The blond haired woman gathered Alice in her arms and hugged her for a long time before the demands on their lives claimed their attention as working women.

That Thursday evening, Nikki got home after a hard day's work and parked her car with a breath of relief. She made a run for the shelter of the front door was rain lashed down on her umbrella and blasts of wind threatened to turn it inside out. She fished out her front door key and the wind blew the front door shut behind her. She sighed with relief to get to the peace and quiet of home life but was disconcerted to see Helen come into sight, arms folded across her chest and a determined expression on her face.

"Had a good day darling?" Nikki offered in the time honoured way, nervously shifting her mind into domestic mode of thinking.

"We need to talk Nikki," countered Helen in forceful tones.

"Sure but I'd love a cup of tea first."

"This is the sole concession I'll make ," came the ominous reply. "I'll make us a mug of tea, you make yourself comfortable on the sofa and you'll tell me what's been on your mind. There's obviously a lot that's been bothering you."

She took that as an offer to her to hand up her coat and umbrella and to focus her thoughts before Helen went into action. She realised that, in nobly protecting Helen from her concerns, she'd also shut her out and deviated from the way they'd always talked things over

"Where do I start?" Nikki said vaguely and came to a stop. Helen knew that her lover needed a little encouragement to come out of her shell. She remembered how Nikki had done the same for her in the past when she'd locked away truths about herself, including her sexuality..

"Darling, it's obvious that you've been in a down mood and you've not been communicating like you normally do. You know how we always share our troubles," Helen said tenderly as she briefly kissed Nikki on her cheek. She offered her her mug of tea and they sat in silence as they drank. Finally, Nikki put her mug down and started to speak properly.

"Well, it's not about work Helen. For a start, I've been going into a blind panic about how we'll cope financially, about how everything's going to come down on my shoulders and it scares the hell out of me."

Helen weighed her words before she spoke. It was not the cold mathematics of budgeting that was at stake but something deeper. The soft subdued lights and drawn curtains shut out the outside world but it had its knack of insinuating its way through a thousand cracks into their world. Both of them knew that.

"It's not about pounds, shillings and pence but you're asking yourself if you are going to be a good enough provider? You're more traditional than you ever thought you were."

"Yeah, I ought to speak to my dad. I've never known him to be plagued by self doubt, either now when he's super confident or back then when we clashed like crazy over my sexuality. One thing I'm wondering about is whether we have a child minder and you go back to work. This is completely uncharted territory for both of us "

"I've been asking myself the same question," Helen said softly and gently. She was infinitely grateful to Nikki in posing the question in her tentative fashion

"That's just it," Nikki said eagerly. "I hate the idea of someone else bringing up our child and knowing her better than we do but I also remember how my mother was such a housewife, a gin and bridge Navy wife. They didn't have to do that and I'd hate to inflict something like that on you. Some kind of feminist I'd be."

Helen smiled happily at the way Nikki put it so concisely and compassionately. It reminded her of how she was first drawn to her. She'd become more animated and less circumspect.

"My feelings exactly. The thing is, we should keep our options open. My job's held open for six months after we've had our baby."

"I agree but aren't we tempting fate in talking this way," Nikki said, her profile clouding over, something that was just visible to Helen. Her advanced state of pregnancy meant that she was lying back in the sofa, her back being supported by a few puffed up cushions while Nikki leant forwards, her forearms resting on her knees and looking half sideways. Because she wasn't directly facing Helen, she missed the satisfied glimmer in Helen's eye that revealed how she'd got to the bottom of the final matter that was bothering her. .

"So you're really worried in case I miscarry?" Helen pursued with audible satisfaction in her voice at her bit of detective work. Nikki's slumped shoulders told Helen she was right on the mark. For the first time, Nikki turned to face Helen directly, now that she'd been finally dug out from the depths of her spiritual isolation..

"All right, I'll fess up. I think you're going to have a go at me for treating you like a china doll sexually speaking. If you are, I'm really really sorry" Nikki said apologising so prettily that even Helen's pent up hormones came close to being gracious about the matter.

"You said it," Helen retorted emphatically, her eyes glinting. "We've been getting to the point that we've been close to being room mates, the amount of sex I've got off you recently. Look at this leaflet 'sex during pregnancy' which I'll read out to you, suitably amended 'Your partner's desire for sex is likely to increase or decrease as well. Some women feel even closer to their pregnant partner and enjoy the changes in their bodies. Others may experience decreased desire because of anxiety about the burdens of parenthood, or because of concerns about the health of both the mother and their unborn child.' Puts it in a nutshell, doesn't it."

"I get the picture darling. I really do promise to be more lustful in future," Nikki said demurely, looking like the picture of innocence. Her patented wit made Helen laugh out loud.

"I know what my body feels like so I'll guide you," Helen said tenderly and with infinite compassion. To her relief, the residual tension eased out of Nikki's body as a soft smile played on her lips. It bade Helen to continue with a sly grin in her voice. "There's so much I want to achieve in this world. You must have known that when you took me on."

Nikki laughed in her free open fashion of hers, exposing her brilliant white teeth and the sparkle in her eyes. It was a long time since Helen had seen that. In turn, Nikki's eyes were opened in the way that her lover lay back in a seductive fashion she hadn't noticed for a bit. Her natural curves were simply exaggerated by her pregnancy and Helen eased her body into a more comfortable position for them to embrace and hold each other for a long, long time. Both women felt in the soft light and warmth of their home that they'd finally come home at last..


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as George entered the courtroom, she felt tension radiating from Jo Mills straight away. She'd taken on the defence of a man accused of rape while Jo was prosecuting him. George had sized up the case objectively and had decided that there were serious doubts as to whether the right man had been arrested from evidence submitted in identification and had pursued a clinical line in questioning which had exposed weaknesses in Jo's emotional line in playing to the gallery and skimping on details. The trial made for a disturbing subtext in her own private life where Alice was being dragged into a similar situation where appearances could be deceiving. Only George's professional capacity for dissociation enabled her to pursue the case and give of her best. When George came to her closing submission, she clinically pulled apart the stacked up points set out by Jo Mills which slid apart in an ungainly pile on the ground. Jo glared at her in hatred when she'd finished and Michael Niven, in his summing up, gave thoughtful weight to a couple of her points. Sure enough, the jury came back in short order and the man was set free to the accompaniment of a tearful display by the woman concerned. George didn't look too closely at her as she felt embarrassed by her success but knew beyond doubt that the right verdict had been arrived at. She also knew that Jo wouldn't see it the same way.

"I suppose you're feeling very pleased with yourself, George. If the woman wasn't straight, you'd have sprung to her defence,"Jo snapped, her body quivering with rage as they were in the middle of putting away their gowns and wigs into their lockers.

"Are you talking about your witness or about you?" George found herself saying without working out too clearly about what she was saying.

"What on earth are you getting at?" Jo shot back, her hackles raised.

"I mean this," pursued George with an unnatural sense of calm control that steamrollered over Jo's furious aggression. "That was an easy win for me. You've been below par and you and I know just why. You've not been the same since you took up with Mel."

"I don't want to talk about it," muttered Jo glaring at George and pursing her lips.

"You've obviously got a lot on your mind which you need to talk about so why not me? We haven't always been the best of friends but you know I'll tell the truth with the best of intentions. Come on- we'll go somewhere quiet," George said in a low yet commanding voice, laying her hand on Jo's sleeve. To her surprise, all the fight drained out of Jo. She turned round like an automaton and headed out of the courtroom where a cold blast of air dazed her.

"The bar across the road. All the brethren will be heading for home," George said quietly, steadying Jo with her arm. Jo stepped out into the road, oblivious of the car screeching past her. Not a moment too soon, sighed George to herself as she began to think that she'd only been a convenient target for Jo's aggression. Inside the warm comforting target, George ordered a straight whisky and a gin and tonic, keeping a sharp eye over her shoulder at Jo who was sitting bolt upright, running her hands through her hair.

"I assume this is your favourite drink," George said with a wide smile, deliberately steering the conversation clear of the trial.

"Thanks," Jo said shortly and she swiftly downed the drink while George sipped at her drink, wondering what to say next.

"I expect you're surprised to see me in this state,"Jo said abruptly as she held the glass in her hand and studied it intently."What have I become, this barrister, this respectable widow, mother of two sons?"

The bitterness in Jo's voice jarred George's nerves. She suspected that Jo was going to unload everything that had been on her mind and was wondering if she could deal with it wisely. Tact hadn't been the quality she'd most thought of when she considered her skills.

Nevertheless, she resolved to do her best.

"All of us aspired to be the conventional wife, married with two point four children. I can think of me and you for a start," George interjected to try and calm things down.

"It was all so easy years ago. You grew up, you studied hard for your exams, you did the usual girlish things, put on your first pair of nylons and make-up, you read Jackie and listened to silly pop songs and, while having your share of suitable boyfriends, dreamed of finding the one and only with whom you were going to have children and follow your career. Everything was so well defined back then," answered Jo eagerly, visualising in the pub haze these images so clearly.

"Helen felt the same way once. You probably know this from talking to her."

"Helen?" queried Jo with a puzzled expression spreading across her face.

"You'll probably know as well as I how come Helen went through severe identity changes in becoming Nikki's lover while being stuck with being her jailer. We've all been through drastic changes in our lives whether we like it or not," interposed George gently, ever so gently easing things along.

"I never planned any of this with Mel," Jo said in reflective tones as George's delicacy of touch got her to finally open up. She'd been wound up like a tight coiled spring for so many months she hadn't been able to talk and the shreds of their recent friendship suddenly let her words run free. She suddenly realised that she needed George to talk to and grabbed at the chance. "She was an old school friend. I was always the quiet one and she was always the wild extrovert one. I always got that special glow inside for as long as I remember that it felt good to be alive. We started off carrying where we left off, especially as I'd let her down badly in not joining her rock and roll band. I felt guilty, you see only she persuaded me that there was nothing to feel guilty about."

The understanding look on George's face became gradually fixed on Jo's confused mind so that a train of thought wove its way to the surface. Her mouth slowly opened in shocked recognition.

"So you think I've always been bisexual or something? You do, don't you."

"It's for you to say, not me. I remember that time we were both at Chix that you were well away with Jane Lancaster. I was really happy for you to have a nice uncomplicated relationship."

"That didn't happen," Jo said in a tight-lipped fashion that deterred further questions. "And Mel's held on remand."

A spasm of pain followed Jo's attempt to batten down the hatches, emotionally speaking which aroused George's intense sympathy. She laid her hand on her friend's hand which was spread out on the bar table.

"She was my first love," Jo said in a giddy rush of words that had begged to be vocalised for months. "I'll never forget running over to her house in the evening, drinking wine and playing guitars in a carefree fashion and having the most beautiful, most satisfying sex I'd ever had in my life. It was thrilling, it was romantic, it was exciting, it was everything in my life and I'll never regret or disown it- even if it was a shock to find out what Mel did for a living. You do understand how I feel, don't you George?"

"Of course I do Jo. Everything you say makes perfect sense," George said with all the natural warmth in her personality and everything she'd been recently given by her new openness to life. After all, both of them had followed roughly similar trajectories in life, even having been rivals for John's favours and had gone on to have their first lesbian experiences comparatively late in life- only George was luckier in her choice of female partner. She wanted no more than for Jo to find the kind of love that she had found. Impulsively, she slipped her arms around Jo and held her while the other woman cried her heart out and rested her head on George's shoulder who made gentle shush shushing rounds for as long as it took to make Jo better.

DCI Taylor of the Drugs Squad made her way home after a tiring day with a greater sense of satisfaction than she had felt a few months ago. Ms Bridges behind bars on remand certainly made a difference to the criminal fraternity who were floundering and hadn't got the organising brain work. The only mark on her horizon was her knowledge that it was quite another matter to secure a conviction and this required her presence in court to give evidence as to the planning, organisation and conduct of the surveillance operation and apprehension of one Mel Bridges. This had been her brainchild, one on which she'd devoted intense concentration over a number of months so this made her the prosecution's expert witness. It was in this frame of mind that she welcomed the approach of DI Martin's white police car with red flashes down the side pulling to a halt and the tread of of flat black polished shoes treading towards the front door. It was not just some idle professional whim that made the other woman especially welcome but because Joy's shapely figure could be seen in the doorway. She was her unflappable girlfriend, her darling confidante, with whom she shared her life and her soul. Instantly, her spirits started to lift.

"Hi Maureen," the tall brunette called out with a special smile on her face which replaced her official composure as soon as she came through the door."It's lovely to see you to get bloody DI Sullivan out of my life for twenty-four hours."

"That's hardly a compliment love," the other woman said, pretending to look hurt but savouring the way her partner moved in, unbuttoned her crisp uniform jacket and gathered her in her arms. A little tender loving care was what her partner wanted, Joy realised and she knew the reason why. Maureen laid a series of kisses on the other woman's face and neck in return and she loved the way Joy's arms cradled the smaller woman's waist.

"Careful, you'll damage my nice new uniform," laughed Maureen invitingly as she felt her lover reach for the side zip on her skirt with obvious intentions while she belied her actions in deftly undoing a shirt button or three. Part of the pleasures in this kind of foreplay was in not treating their official presences as sacrosanct.

"So do you want sex first and a takeaway after?" joked Joy as she was getting somewhere in her forced disrobing while kissing the part of her lover's neck she could get access to.

"So long as he doesn't catch us in the act. That might be difficult to explain or would it?" laughed Maureen as she caught sight of her lover's cleavage with only an inconvenient bra in the way. She vigorously pulled her lover down onto the settee where their blend of murmurs of growing satisfaction announced that dinner and the entire world outside could wait.

"I can't believe it," Joy said later on as they lay, scantily clad in the soft comfort of their large settee, skirts,jackets and sensible shoes strewn all around them. Her right hand was resting against her lover's right breast which she stroked softly."I remember you telling me how you gave evidence in Charlie Atkins' trial and the opposing barrister picked holes in your evidence and you watched the trial from the visitor's gallery and saw the case going down before your eyes but you went into the next court case hardly turning a hair."

"I try not to take it personally love," Maureen said softly, her normally sleek hair looking gloriously dishevelled."In any case love, I know you set very high standards both of yourself and others and you like to plan things to the nth degree which is why you made DCI. You're afraid that, outside your plans, you won't be able to wing it when some nitpicking barrister comes at you from an angle you weren't ready for."

"That's just it. I wish you could give me some kind of relaxing massage before I take the stand,"suggested Joy vaguely.

"Careful love. The court staff might get an eyeful they weren't ready for," joked Maureen with a mischievous grin as her hand circled round her lover's flat stomach. clearly ready to reach lower."

"We'll have to work on this some more, now and later," gasped Joy, squeezing her lover's hand and urging it down between her legs for the pleasures she craved so much from her extraordinary woman and fellow-professional.

In the unnatural stillness of the pub, Jo and George felt utterly peaceful while the gathering gloom outside closed in on them. It almost felt as they'd been transported to another dimension. Suddenly, George's mobile sounded a classical musical motif.

"Oh hi, Alice darling," George's drawling voice breaking the hush while Jo felt calm as her friend felt entirely herself and normal."I'm here with Jo in the pub across the way from court, having a heart to heart talk."

"That's great. I'll see you later whenever," Alice's calm voice sounded in her ear."Give her a best wishes kiss from me."

George grinned widely at her partner's intriguing line of conversation and signed off.

"It's good of you to spend so much time on me," Jo said gratefully.

"You need to consider letting Mel Bridges go," George advised gently."If she is found guilty, she'll go down for a long stretch. If she does, well she'll find other girlfriends there. I'm pretty sure she's a natural survivor. The question is what you're going to do with your life with Jane Lancaster and other women out there."

"But what about John?" questioned a surprised Jo.

"You have both had your chances especially while I've been out of the running," George said laconically. "If it was meant to be, you'd have got together ages ago. So ask yourself who you feel most mentally and physically at home with, men or women?"

"Women of course," answered Jo, surprised to find herself drawing such a conclusion.

"Then there's your answer," George said, planting a brief kiss on Jo's lips.

An elderly woman with greying curly hair sat alone behind net curtains in her semi-detached house with neatly trimmed privet hedges and well attended roses. In her living room, she hunted round for her spare pair of reading glasses which she would ordinarily have watched daytime TV in her favourite chair, the settee facing at right-angles being undisturbed. Pictures of her together with her late husband were hung on the wall, on the sideboard along with photos of an angelic looking little girl with a cheeky grin. Dressed in her neatly arranged sensible skirt and cardigan, she reluctantly made her way to her old-fashioned bureau, wrote out a cheque in her still neat, regular handwriting, wrote a covering letter with precise directions, carefully sealed it up and went to put on her overcoat. she carefully locked the front door and walked fifty yards to the postbox and thereby discharged her moral obligation which took out another chunk of her life savings and another piece of her heart. The letter was to be conveyed to the guitar shop in the nearby town to deliver a brand new, varnished acoustic guitar to her errant daughter, Mel Bridges, resident of HMP Larkhall being held on remand.

How many years ago had she agreed to her bright-eyed daughter's request for a shiny new electric guitar even after she had gone through a bewildering transformation in her adolescence to wearing jeans and a leather jacket. She'd already got an acoustic guitar which she'd become obsessive about and she thought her daughter would be satisfied with that as a harmless hobby. At least she and her late husband consoled themselves that she didn't bring round any unsuitable boys and, in any case, she found it hard to deny her spirited wilful daughter anything. Thinking back to those innocent days, it was hard to live with the fact that, over the years, that innocence had faded from her daughter's eyes and an unfathomable stranger had taken her place instead.

After dropping the letter in the post, she walked back slowly with a heavy heart.


	9. Chapter 9

Just as Karen was walking out of the locker room after finishing an early shift on Friday, she heard her mobile bleeping. with a grin of satisfaction, she recognised Beth's number on the screen. She didn't often phone her up as it was just as likely that Karen might be helping out in an operation as Beth might be in a middle of a reporting assignment. Whenever she did ring, Karen knew that there might be interesting plans afoot.

"Hi darling," Karen said in her favourite smoky tones."What's happening?"

"I'm on my way to pick you up if you've finished your shift. We're going shopping- it's a surprise. I'll be with you in ten minutes if you're clear."

Karen asked no further questions she loved her lover's spontaneous surprises. A pleasurable thrill of anticipation coursed through her system as she strode through the double doors to the chilly outside air. Catching a lift coincided nicely dropping her perky looking green MG sports car for a service first thing in the morning and normally, she'd have headed for her spot in the car park. She wore her favourite black trousers, crisp white shirt and warm overcoat on a day like this. She knew she wouldn't be freezing to death in the outside air as she knew that one of Beth's virtues was punctuality .Chrissie Williams floated by, grinning as she put two and two together at the way that Karen stood still scouring the lines of traffic while smoking a much needed cigarette.

"Beth's picking you up? You both have a good time."

Karen grinned back as Chrissie swung her way towards the bus stop. A little while later, Jane Lancaster looked on from afar as she saw Karen suddenly walk rapidly towards a gleaming black BMW convertible that swung into the car park with a stylish arc. Her indulgent smile turned into a wicked grin as shehe saw Jac Naylor appear out of nowhere just at the perfect moment. Jane admired the older woman for the way that she, like Chrissie Williams were no respectors of paper titles and self-important tin gods and were perfectly comfortable with themselves. By contrast, Jac Naylor's manner was tense, artificial and frequently sarcastic. Jane idly wondered who Karen would pay attention to, her lover or an obnoxious registrar who had the power to order her around while both were at work. No contest, Jane noted with satisfaction as Karen leaned through the open window and gave the dark-haired beauty behind the wheel a long, luscious kiss . It was only when she came up for air to go round the other side of the car when Karen came face to face with a stony-faced Jac Naylor.

"Urrgh. Women kissing. I suppose there's no accounting for taste but do you have to make it so obvious?" Jac sneered.

For a second, Karen was taken aback as she glanced round at the numbers of people coming and going but she squashed the traditional fear of what others might be thinking of her. This bitch was only feeling for a weakness in her that she might exploit. Her lips tightened as she realised that this woman was just another confidence trickster, just another one of the kind she'd come across in her life.

"I'm off work Jac. You're just jealous of someone else's happiness. Too bad you're on your own," Karen said dismissively before nipping daintily in front of the bonnet and into the awaiting passenger seat. Shutting the passenger door felt good in more ways than one as she stepped into the world she most wanted to inhabit. She grinned impishly beyond her partner's welcoming smile to the last flash of Jac Naylor's disapproving glare as a surge of power removed this image. She lay back in the slanting seat, waiting to hear what her lover had in store for them. What caught her eye was Beth's smart black formal knee length skirt whose side slit revealed pleasurable contours of shapely thigh. As usual, her black bobbed haircut and make-up were perfect.

"You're so gorgeous and really welcome as always."

"I've just had an unexpected bonus so my first thought is to spend it at a new lingerie shop I've heard of," Beth replied breezily, a lurking smile at the corners of her lips as she powered the car down the street.

"So how come you heard of such interesting knowledge?"

"Through work contacts. Being a journalist has its uses," purred Beth, her even white teeth showing. She cast a sideways glance at her lover's slim legs that her dark trousers accentuated rather than concealed.

"Sounds fine by me," Karen drawled in reply, her imagination starting to take flight.

A little while later, Karen found herself transported to a lush wonderland of feminine frills and laces in pastel colours and her eyes felt as if they were standing out on stalks in this magic world. Beth looked on at her partner's obvious bedazzlement with a kindly smile while the glitter in her own eyes showed how her sophisticated sense of style was drawn like a magnet to what was on display. The trouble was that neither women could make a decision until finally, Karen's eyes locked onto the garment she had never know existed until that moment. It was a scarlet red lacy nightie, skimpily cut and deftly contoured. She desired to possess it immediately.

"Look at that Beth. It's made for me."

"So it is," breathed the dark-haired woman, her imagination whirling riotously."We'll have it."

"Wait a moment. I must try it on, make sure it fits. It needs to allow plenty of space for my...""Karen started to say and was thrown by the realisation that obviously straight women were strolling around on their own.

"Breasts. I get the picture. Pity I can't come into the changing room with you. That's the trouble with a straight place. They don't make allowances," Beth replied, a little disconsolately as she picked up Karen's perception. Until that point, they'd wafted round in an isolation bubble of their own.

"No strapons for sale here," Karen grinned mischievously, her head leaning into her lover's to whisper into her ear."Breach of equal opportunities, I call it."

Beth giggled helplessly and playfully smacked Karen's arm after which the blond-haired woman did her best to compose herself as she politely approached the young female assistant who exuded naive innocence.

"What about you?" Karen suddenly asked as they made their way to the changing rooms. She felt guilty that she'd been way too narcissistic at her lover's expense."Aren't you missing out?"

"That's all right," laughed Beth."They've set aside a pure white nightie shaped just like yours. It contrasts nicely with my hair. I'll show it for you when we get home."

This thoughtfulness caused a wave of tenderness to swell up inside the blond-haired woman. She was on the point of her lips and arms to express herself naturally but stopped just in time. It helped them talk their way through the security girl that Karen heeded a friend's fashion judgement to help decide like she remembered saying years ago in another incarnation.

"I'll slip on my nightie. See what you think,"Karen said as she disappeared behind the curtain of her booth. It was only a short while later that Karen called out to say she was ready. Eagerly, Beth passed through the curtain and a wondrous vision greeted her.

"My God, Karen, I want to fuck you so badly- right now," she breathed.

Suddenly, the daytime sensibly covered up Karen had been magically transformed intro the bedroom vision she adored and so delightfully out of context in this changing room. Thanks to Beth's raging lusts, the outside world was abolished.

"Do you like this? It does make me look and feel like the mythical scarlet woman," Karen teased with a lurking smile on lips which she'd touched up with matching lipstick. Beth's staring eyes took in her lover's bare shoulders from which the nightie's styling emphasized her natural curves and revealed her splendidly shaped legs. Her eyes didn't know which way to look but she could be persuaded to stare at her lover's jutting nipples.

"Does it look equally good from the back as I can't see properly," teased Karen as she twirled around showing off her glorious backside. This was too much for Beth's hormones as her greedy fingers slipped under the hem of the nightie and slip upwards.

"You know you can't take me right here or we'll be thrown out of the shop without our goodies. I'm so aroused that I want us to get back home and for you to penetrate me. When you've had your wicked way with me then it'll be my turn to fuck you."

Karen's words had a strange stabilising effect on Beth, riven as they were with erotic desire yet her advice of caution and restraint had its effect. Both women put a lid on their desires so they could act naturally when Karen changed back into her daytime garb, to pretend to act like normal customers to the checkout girl. Beth fumbled with her credit card as she inserted it wrong ways round in the machine and Karen couldn't repress an attack of the giggles. For the life of her, Beth couldn't explain themselves until she ended up advising herself quietly not to bother.

In high spirits, they made their way back to the car, being the visible socially acceptable surface of the hormones that raged inside them. The drive home passed in a blur as Beth drove them at express speed through the streets.

"Careful of the speed traps, darling," Karen advised as Beth hurled them round a corner with a slight screech of tyres.

"Don't worry. If the cops pull us over, I'll explain that we have an urgent medical emergency," came the nonchalant reply which made Karen laugh out loud.

Finally, they clattered up the stairs and Beth fumbled impatiently with her front door keys until the door burst open. Only when they'd dropped their shopping bags on the side and the door was closed behind them did Karen suddenly push her lover up against the wall. They kissed each other furiously, fevered fingers slipping off their already unbuttoned coat and jacket and starting to unbutton each other's shirts. Each woman knew that the other was highly sexed and inside the walls of their home, they were free to do and be as they wished. That thought was a delicious aphrodisiac to them both as each made their long delayed move on the other.

It was not so much later that the dark-haired beauty finally slid inside her lover with that sensitivity of touch that made up for what nature didn't provide. Karen gave vent to a huge sigh of satisfaction and the first of her pleasurable tremors. This is what they wanted, she sighed as she felt incredibly open to Beth's desires as the inside of her thighs moved silkily against her lover's sleek body. Beth crushed the full lips she adored as both women luxuriated in the feel of their bodies lying full length against each other. Between them, they built up a slow sensuous rhythm that was only the start of this evening.

"You like me having my wicked way with you?"sounded Beth's voice with a breathy texture as her face hovered overhead.

"Yes oh yes. The wickeder the better. Don't stop for me," Karen's more than normally husky reply beseeched her back.

Both of them had strength and lung power enough in them as their desires flowed fiercer through them like liquid fire. The dark haired woman of her dreams thrust deeply inside Karen whose own hips pumped back quicker than ever until both women were overcome by a final surge of delirious pleasure that left them spent and gasping on the edge of their pleasures.

Except for the two women's rapid breathing which gradually eased over time, a cosy silence hung over the bedroom. Karen lay flat on her back, her legs wide apart feeling good about herself, that this had taken the edge off their pent up lusts but she had a long time to go. She knew from months of intimate friendship that Beth felt exactly the same.


	10. Chapter 10

Don't pull out, darling. I love the feeling of you deep inside me," Karen said in a small tender voice as she felt her lover's hips flex while they lay full length against each other. She felt strongly as she'd felt before that this was how they were both born to live.

Beth reached out and loosely held her lover, propping herself up on her elbows. She looked tenderly at Karen, arms outstretched, tousled fair hair, her intense blue eyes and a soft smile on her lips.

"I love moments like this as much as anything,"Beth answered softly."I can't imagine living any other way than like this. Everything before you had its good moments sure, but feels unreal like previous existence other than myself."

"That's exactly how I feel except that I went through months of sheer miserable existence until I was freed to cross your path. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," murmured Karen, drawing down the sleek lines of her hark-haired lover into a soft, deep kiss. It felt like an exquisite way of punctuating their conversation.

"What still amazes me after all these months is how you took to this kind of lesbian sex as if you'd done it all your life and never questioned what I was leading you into," Beth pursued with a joking edge which didn't deceive Karen.

"Darling, everything you've ever shown me has been all about love between two women, from full on sex and the sort of tenderness I'd never come across before. I feel your presence all the time. Even when I'm busy slaving away at work, you're never far from my thoughts."

The soft sounds of both women's voices faded away into utter peace and tranquillity that surrounded them. Karen's slim fingers traced a delicate tracery pattern on her lover's shapely back. In moments like these, neither of them had to speak- their emotional closeness did all the communication that was necessary as they lay divorced from time and second nature in the modern age to make plans and strategies.

"You're the only human being who can get away with treating me as a sex object and I love it," Karen said at last, thoughts becoming words in a second.

"When I clapped eyes on a blond Amazon and found out that you're as free loving as me, who's really mature and has such gorgeous tits," purred Beth, lingering over every syllable while her eyes sparkled with mischief, instantly latching onto the dynamics of this new mood," I couldn't believe my good fortune.".

"It took a long time to realise that what really floats my boat is a long-legged dark -haired beauty who challenges and excites me," Karen said at last, her voice silky smooth and edged with husky undertones that did something indescribable to Beth's insides. Come to think of it, Karen was certainly aware of strong urges inside her.

Their kisses were soft and gentle at first but each started to edge the other into smooth, assured movements of arms, legs and most of all, hips against each other as two women knew each other so well and felt profoundly comfortable around each other.

"Darling, I really want you to do something for me."

"Name it and I'll certainly do it to you," Beth retorted sexily, her lively imagination doing its best to glean her partner's unspoken desires.

.

"I really want you to suck my tits. You know you really want to. You told me so a little while back," wheedled Karen.

This threw the dark-haired woman into a quandary as she'd been happily working this blond haired temptress into the early stages of an orgasm. Her eyes flicked down the length of the gorgeously curvaceous woman underneath her whose thighs were wrapped round her. Finally, she gave way with a soft chuckle, not being able to resist being seduced by this embodiment of her dreams. She slid outside the moistness of her lover and started to lay kisses on those desired full lips and cheeks before making her leisurely way down her neck. Karen sighed with pleasure at these gentle ministrations being laid on her, her nipples tingling with anticipation. It took a lifetime in seconds before Beth's lips and tongue started expertly coaxing sharp flashes of pleasure from her lover, making her arch her back in pleasure and moan in unashamed enjoyment. .

"Oh darling, you make me feel so good," Karen managed to articulate between her wordless cries of pleasure.

Instinct prompted Beth to move her head sideways and bury her head between her lover's ample breasts with a long drawn out exhalation of pure satisfaction as she felt the soft skin against both cheeks. This was her ultimate dream expression of love and desire for womanhood which had guided her search over the years until it suddenly appeared in front of her eyes the night they'd first met at Chix. Karen felt intuitively the full force of her lover's emotional craving and tenderly ran her fingers through Beth's dark hair and along the contours of her back.

"Happy now?" she asked of Beth's flushed face and moist and glowing eyes as she finally broke surface.

"I'll always want to make you feel as happy as I feel, sweetheart. That's what I've always dreamed for us."

"I so much feel the same but one thing would make me feel really fantastic and take us to heaven. I want you to penetrate me ."

The sharp consonants of Karen's penultimate word neatly inserted hard edged lust to the sea of warm romantic feelings, especially seeing Karen's delicious half-smile and feeling her subtle movements against her. As Karen wrapped her arms round her sexual partner, Beth slid cleanly and easily inside that desired body and a warm feeling of accomplishment spread through Beth's system as her lover wrapped herself hungrily round the gratified woman. In no time at all, they were moving back and forth to their sympathetic rhythms.

"Oh God, you must be so wet," exclaimed Beth.

"Anything to keep us satisfied," drawled Karen with a triumphant gleam in her eye before readily exposing her softness which came easily."Wherever you go, we go together. That's the way it's been ever since I first knew you."

"Whenever I'm wearing a strapon, I feel butch and I like it. You got me to be sexually versatile," an unmeasurable period of time later into the night when Karen spoke in such an unmistakeably self satisfied manner as she got herself ready .Beth laughed out loud at her lover's witticism. It felt good that feelings could be put into words so easily and that she'd been freed up to live this way. The dark-haired woman lay on the bed, a dim glow from the sidelight etching her in subdued shapes fading into shadows but enough for Karen to see the dark-haired woman lying sprawled on the bed, looking very come hither and lapping up the verbalised intimacies. The fair haired woman stole sidelong glances at the shaded area where Beth's long legs converged and the half smile on her lips."OK, you might think, ex prison governor equals bondage and discipline but that was a lifetime ago. I've got used to strutting around like this and feeling good about myself and not just about these exotic sexual pleasures. I guess you know all this."

"Of course I do and it's another reason why I love you so much," Beth softly replied, feeling exactly the same. She had always blessed her luck in living with a woman whose maturity, intelligence and needs became hers for the asking. They were so much in sync with each other so she had easily absorbed her partner's ruminations. She gazed boldly at Karen who was now ready and who paced ever so slowly round to the side of the bed where the dark-haired beauty lay.

"Come to me darling," Beth murmured softly and invitingly with outstretched arms, tantalized as to what sort of move this imaginative woman of hers would make on her. This moment made a string visual image, a dramatic upward looking erotic perspective of Karen, legs wide apart, hands on her hips, hair flung back, a wide smile of pleasure on her face and, right in the middle, the tubular shape projecting from her centre. It riveted Beth's wide eyed desires as it enhanced her lover's femininity.

"Any time, anywhere," came the sultry answer as Karen moved casually on top of the dark-haired woman straddling her and taking her time to claim possession of her. The blond-haired woman wrapped her strong arms around Beth and hungrily delivered a long deep kiss that seemed to last forever. Karen's not sticking her tongue down my throat, thought Beth swooning, but she comes pretty damn close. She stayed deep inside Beth's mouth for a long while before her slow but sure movements took the strong woman down to kissing Beth down the length of her neck, around her shoulders and finally Karen's lips and tongue performed magical sensations on the dark-haired woman's nipples. All the time, she teased the sensitive spots in Beth's centre in such a way as to make her hips flex back and forwards. All the time while Karen's arm reached sideways to click off the sidelight, lustful images were pumping through her imagination. She loved the feeling of her body lying full length on top of her lover, just about to penetrate her, their hard nipples rubbing against each other as both women's voices made sweet wordless sounds of pleasure. Finally, she slid inside Beth ever so gently, ever so lovingly and both women erupted into a fury of passionate lovemaking that neither woman wanted to bring to an end..

"Both of us really enjoy sex that lasts a long, long time," Beth said a long time later when Karen had laid aside her invaluable device in sexually pleasuring her lover. They lay alongside each other, Beth ceaselessly running her hand along the curve of her lover's hip, back up again and along the glorious shape of her backside. Both women felt very sleepy, physically tired out as if they'd run a marathon but needing the priceless part of lovemaking, sharing post orgasm intimacies before they could finally settle down to sleep.

"Thanks to you darling. You've really opened my eyes to all sorts of interesting possibilities,"Karen said with a soft throaty chuckle as she softly kissed her lover's eyes.

"Perhaps you don't quite know what a gorgeous lover you are," Beth said softly."I've had my share of women but every single last one of them turns round and says how wonderful it's been, etcetera etcetera when I'd only just got warmed up. Worse than that, I've attracted immature women with no conversation who want me to be some kind of agony aunt to heal their wounded feelings."

"I've had the same bad experiences with men," agreed Karen with a momentary trace of bitterness in her voice."I don't want to think of the smooth talking bastards who act strong but are weak underneath their cheap chat up lines. They want me to prop up their tottering egos but get scared of women being on top."

A smile of dawning recognition spread across Beth's face as she recalled their recent sexual athletics and how good it felt to feel Karen deep inside her."So that's why you love fucking me," laughed Beth into her lover's ear as her hand stroked the hollow of her back.

"Partly," admitted Karen frankly. Running her own hand along the length of her lover's delightfully shaped back and nibbling her earlobe made for additional answer."It amuses me that I can do better than they could but I feel the same about you when you're inside me. For the first time in my life, the little voice inside me questioning me why I ever got into a relationship isn't speaking, she's cheering me on to hold nothing back about the way I feel about you, all the little things about living with you that mesh, your brightness and ambition. It's not just the sex though that's more important that I could ever imagine," Karen said, ruminating in a far off voice as her hand moved down her lover's back to caress her neatly formed backside

"You're the first woman I've met who's as sexually insatiable as I am, funny as hell, intelligent and above all, really mature. I'm a really lucky woman," Beth confessed with a break in her voice as she continued to stroke her lover's curves.

"I'm really lucky as well, darling," Karen murmured as her emotion rose to the surface, softly kissing her lover's lips."It took me far too long to realise that my relationship problems with damaged men could be put right with a woman. Of all the women I could have met at Chix, I had the luck to find a lover who's a real friend. You're smart, you're caring and you keep me really interested."

"Something tells me you're working us up to making love again. Are you really up for it?" Beth asked with a mischievous grin on her face and in her voice, tickled by Karen's frank description of them both. Her honesty made Karen chuckle with appreciative amusement.

"The spirit is always willing but, for once, the flesh is weak. I'd sooner cuddle up to you and settle down to sleep, that is if you can't persuade me otherwise," Karen sighed, softly stroking her lover's back.

"Like kissing your tits. You know you love that," teased Beth as her hand wandered up her lover's flank.

"Of course I do but can you follow that up for an encore. I know I couldn't. God, you're so demanding," Karen murmured sleepily as her lips softly massaged her lover's lips. During the pause that elapsed, both women's eyelids drooped down and Beth's mind hazily grappled for a reply as she was as tired out as Karen.

"I can't either so let's cuddle up close," Beth murmured back at last as she came to the same conclusion as Karen.

"What about our nighties?" Karen suddenly asked as a sudden idea popped into her mind. After all, it was this purchase that had sparked off the intensity of their lovemaking.

"I tell you what, we'll get dressed first thing in the morning and then we'll rip them off each others' backs. The weekend starts here. Right now, I want you naked and wrapped around me," Beth answered mischievously. She couldn't deal with her lover separating herself even for a brief period of time and as Karen gave a sleepy chuckle, she shuffled her body around her lover and pulled the quilt around them The blond haired woman sighed with sheer happiness as her life could never be more complete than this. Saturdays started off with whatever two inventive minds woke up to and carried on their pleasure seeking route right down to getting on their glad rags, arriving arm in arm at Chix to hang out and chat with their friends and getting physically affectionate with other on the dance floor, the one public space they could act like themselves. Each of them felt a nice snug, intimate sisterly feeling for each other. So they settled down together, arms loosely resting against each other, bodies entwined round each other, cheeks resting against the pillow and hearing each other's soft even breathing of the most precious creature in existence. In such a mood of dreamy contentment, physical exhaustion and sexual completion, they slid off together into a magic carpet ride of deep and restful sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

On Friday morning, Jo took a longer look at herself in the mirror than normal just when the bright spring sunlight shone in and gave her a definite lift in her spirits than she'd had for a long time. It made her take more care over her make-up than normal and she concluded that she wasn't unattractive. Her blue eyes shone and nature had been kind to her elfin face and complexion. Her mind felt sharp and alert and the case she'd laboured over last night fell neatly into place.

As she swung into her accustomed space in court, Neumann Mason-Alan's head swivelled round to look at her. He wasn't greatly worried. On the throne above them both as the preliminaries took place, John took one glance at Jo and noticed that she looked sharper, more alert than normal. Four hours later, Jo headed for the exit with a spring in her step, a smile of satisfaction on her lips and a sweating Neumann Mason-Alan left behind in her wake. As she unlocked her locker door to put her wig and gown away, George slid in with a grin all over her face.

"I can tell from the smirk on your face that you trounced Neumann Mason-Alan."

"I did indeed. This is the first day I've felt normal in court for ages. I broken the jinx on me and everything fell right," Jo said enthusiastically.

"I'm so pleased for you. You ought to celebrate your return to your true form," George replied in a honeyed voice.

"What have you got in mind?" Jo questioned, a little warily.

"All right Jo, I'll put my cards on the table. Why don't you come with Alice and I to Chix and make the most of things."

"That's what Jane Lancaster advised me. You know, the blonde nurse I was dancing with," Jo said impulsively as if the words were telling what her mind to say.

"There you are," George said with discreetly understated sense of triumph, knowing that Jo was capable of taking fright and backing out. "You deserve a little pleasure after the rough time you've had for all these months."

Jo thought silently to herself and nodded. In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought as she started making plans.

"I hope you don't mind if I come over to your place and get ready. I'll wear that little black dress I wore last time," Jo said in an unostentatious fashion. The plea in her eye wasn't lost on George.

"Of course you can. Name the time and we'll be ready for you," George said, hugging Jo affectionately.

This night was the gathering of the tribes in the locality with a palpable sense of excitement for the single and unattached as 'Chix' became the centre of their universe. Having recently finished their shift, Ros straightened the lapels of her partner's smart black jacket, casting a glance at hers and Jenny's blue uniforms and caps that were relegated to the side of their wardrobe for tonight. Similarly occupied were DI Martin and DCI Taylor transforming their identities into Joy and Maureen in their flowery loose dresses, cut a little above the knee. On the side was a printout of the advert for Chix that Joy had spotted and drawn to her partner's attention. A police career, so they reasoned, was all very well but all work and no play made Jill a dull girl.

"I'll do it. I really miss seeing Nikki and Helen," said Trisha with a determined expression on her face as she reached for her mobile. The vague wish that Nikki and Helen could come to Chix had hardened into a resolve to achieve this.

"They cannot be allowed to think that motherhood means being umbilically linked to the home twenty four seven. After all, what are babysitters there for?"observed Sally-Anne quietly as she straightened her sleeveless top and reached for her hairbrush.

Trisha flashed her a grateful look as she dialled the number. She had to admit to herself that underpinning her mood of urgency was the sneaking feeling that butting up against the combined determination of their two friends was like pushing against a steamroller with bare hands. She set to work with an inspired line in forceful persuasion to shift their fixed convictions that they should leave their party going days behind them when they were about to become responsible parents.

"All right, you win," Nikki finally conceded in a sudden rush as her friend wore down her resistance along with Helen's backstage reinforcement. She didn't quit without one final thrust,"If Helen's waters break, you'd better be prepared to be instant midwives. I know from years of living with you how squeamish you can be."

"Karen's coming," Trisha said with breezy insouciance. "She's the expert. She's delivered a baby at Larkhall with only an emergency kit. She's had loads of experience so I'll look on seeing her be masterful and in charge. Trust us. Everything'll be all right."

Trisha grinned broadly as she heard Nikki's groan down the phone in surrender to her persistent entreaties. She gestured a thumbs up to Sally-Anne who instantly put the phone tree into operation, starting with George.

"They'll enjoy a night out," Sally Anne said succinctly as she started brushing her hair vigorously.

At six-thirty, a timid knock on the door announced Jo's arrival at George's, complete with a small suitcase just as the blond-haired woman clicked off the phone with a grin of satisfaction. Jo realised with slight surprise that this was the first time she'd ever called round at her friend's.

As soon as Jo entered the front room, she was seduced by the warmth and scented opulence. Dressed in her white flowing dress, George came forward to embrace her warmly and gave way to a sight of the tall and stately Alice who made her quiet presence known with dark flowing locks flowing romantically round her. This was what she needed, Jo whispered to herself as she felt how these two women fit together. She felt happy for her friends good fortune.

"I've brought my dress and make-up with me," Jo offered tentatively, not wishing to intrude.

"Jo darling, feel free to use our bedroom as we're ready and relaxing," George offered in her extravagant fashion, reinforced by Alice's welcoming gesture. Nothing more needed to be explained or apologised for. She's never called me darling before, Jo thought whimsically as she proceeded to their holy of holies and she deftly made herself up and got changed.

"Jo, you look so fine," exclaimed Alice. "You'll charm some lady out there who's waiting for you without knowing it."

Jo warmed to these two women who were so kind to her and began to think there was hope out there.

Karen loved the feel of being transported through the London streets whose darkness was interrupted by lights flashing past. She was dressed in her tight purple dress, her blond locks trailing past her shoulders. With her lady by her side and the gentle buzz of future pleasures and meeting their friends, who could ask for more?

To Helen's surprise, an increasingly nervous Nikki suddenly grabbed at her mobile and asked her father permission to go out with Helen to Chix. Her father's answers could be read across Nikki's expressive features to Helen's gentle amusement. She'd been calm enough about setting out to Chix as she was highly conscious as to what her body would stand and what it wouldn't. She knew also that she'd have to cut right back on the alcohol and would have to manage on high spirits alone.

"Why on earth are you asking me permission, Nicola? Isn't Helen supposed to be doing some kind of ante natal exercises? Isn't she the best judge of what she can do?" came three pertinent questions over the line to Nikki's rueful amusement. She was highly aware that age had only sharpened up her father's mental and verbal fluency. "Isn't that right Jill?" he called out backstage to his wife.

"I suppose you're right dad," Nikki admitted.

"Between me, you and the gatepost, you're going through a spot of pre birth nerves. I was like that before you and John were born though I'd never admit it to your mother. Stiff upper limit, you know. Now you and Helen get out there and enjoy yourselves. That's an order," her father spoke in kindly reassuring tones.

"Thanks dad. Thanks a lot," Nikki said emotionally as she signed off, her temporary attack of nerves subsiding like the receding tide. She turned to face Helen grinning from ear to ear and wearing a very loose fitting maternity dress.

"Since I'm on the wagon, I'll drive us," she ordered in firm tones making Nikki feel a little weak at the knees, recalling the moment when she'd first confessed to Helen that she loved it when she was bossy. The only difference was that Helen had used the house phone and she wasn't driving them to the airport to go on the run to California. They were only going for a night out to Chix.

At the appointed hour, Trisha and Sally-Anne came out to hang out with those who worked for them. However much they'd prospered with their joint enterprise, they'd never forgotten the occasion when they'd been fleeced by an unscrupulous woman called Gill who had wormed her way too close to their bank account or when Trisha had been attacked, not forgetting the nightmarish occasion when Trisha had come close to being raped by DC Gossard. They made sure that they didn't fall in to the trap of being arrogantly dictatorial but made sure that they were looked after.

"You're looking cheerful," their friendly DJ, complete with her trademark white hat, said cheerfully to them. She was worth her weight in gold as she swayed to the music as she tracked from one beguiling dance song to another.

"We've persuaded an old friend of ours and her partner to come out tonight. We'll spend some time in the VIP room with them but we'll make sure we'll do the rounds as normal."

"Any special requests?" she asked politely, doing her job.

"I follow Nikki's advice when we first started the club together- she's the friend I mentioned - and that's never tell a DJ how to do her job. She and her partner are having a baby," Trisha said, feeling in a nostalgic mood.

"I'll try out a few songs, you guys and get the feel of the sequence. Texas "When we are together" and some recent Kylie Minogue stuff feels right to me," she said carelessly.

Trisha's expression brightened at once. This was a paradox as it took her back to the day she hoped to be reunited with Nikki after her three years in prison and making contact again after she'd cheated on her friend. Those songs had been playing when Helen came in out off the street. Instantly their radiance interconnected despite Helen's obvious bashfulness but the soft and feminine vocal shapes had told her that Helen was the better woman. Years of living with Nikki had dinned it into her head to be honest with herself and others so she couldn't possibly accuse Helen of stealing her one time lover from her and she deserved the love of this extraordinary woman. Fate had led Sally Anne to enter her life and this was where she was meant to be and she slipped her hand to join the grip of the capable dark-haired woman who was with her now.

The honey coloured softly pulsing sounds of the music kicked off and coloured lights started flickering and brought the silent darkness of the club into life. Both women felt in their bones that the party was about to begin.


	12. Chapter 12

Ros and Jenny were amongst the earliest arrivals and were warmly greeted by Trisha while Sally-Anne was chatting to the barmaids.

"It's lovely to see you both again as I know how busy you are."

"We owe you a favour. It's the one place we can be real. I guess it can't harm your business in having some dyke policewomen around," Jenny observed with a curious mixture of seriousness and levity.

"We can't get enough of you guys. I remember the bad old days when Nikki and I had to butter up the nasty homophobic bastards who came sniffing round here. They gave us the creeps. I felt especially threatened as I look traditionally feminine and that must have been an affront to their male egos. Finally DS Gossard came around and you know the rest."

"Don't we just remember him? Thinking of him reminds us that however shit things are at work, it could never be that bad," snorted Ros in disgust.

"We don't expect you guys to play bodyguard when you're around here but you're always welcome," Trisha said tactfully as she realised that she'd touched a sensitive nerve. Come to think of it, being pressed against the bar by a rapist wasn't something she wanted to dwell on either.

"We're here for a good time like any woman but police instincts don't sleep. Be seeing you," Ros said laconically, following her partner to the bar.

Beth was wearing a very cool white trouser suit to contrast with her dark hair while Karen's contour hugging short purple dress certainly caught the eye as her blonde hair was gently blown back by a sharp gust of wind. She was out for a night's fun, she laughed to herself, wearing a dress up to here as her mother used to complain of when she was in her teens only this time, she wasn't going to end up pregnant. They were laughing and chattering as they got out the taxi as feelings of pleasure bubbled up inside them. As they made their way to the bar, a familiar voice hailed them.

"Hiya Beth and Karen. It's great to see you two again," a much missed Scottish voice sounded from behind them. The two women spun round to be instantly cheered by Helen's gleaming smile and outstretched arms and feel the warmth emanating from Nikki. It was only a little later that they noticed Helen's advanced state of pregnancy, something they took care of when the four women embraced. A flood of conversation immediately broke loose.

"Tell me Karen, are you running St Mary's yet? I'm counting on you."

"It will come Helen," answered Karen in delighted tones."I think Chrissie Williams is getting promotion to sister so I'm in line to take her place as junior sister. St Mary's have taken into account my past nursing experience and have half an eye to my my time in the prison service. I think everyone's rooting for me bar the odd snooty registrar and she doesn't count."

"That's rebel talk," a grinning Nikki said delightedly. "I'm so pleased for you."

"No more than I'd expect from your past experiences of being done down," Helen added on a slightly grimmer note, alluding to the way their friend had been framed for a hit and run killing. They knew it had permanently damaged Karen's respect for authority.

"I'm not the only one," Karen said modestly. "I'm not sure if you know but Beth has been exiled to the arts section of the Independent."

"What?" exclaimed two voices in unison."But you're a talented political commentator," Helen chipped in, just beating Nikki to it.

"There are compensations. Except from a couple of old stagers who are untouchable, the standard of writing has gone down the pan. Art is comparatively new to me but I've caught on fast and the women I'm with respect me. I get first shot at all the interesting exhibitions and, most of all, I have terrific sex with Karen," Beth replied with admirable stoicism which gave way to her wicked grin and Karen's dirty laugh.

A selection of choice R and B was already pulsing round the club. Instinctively, Nikki and Helen started to move to the music but the smaller woman was brought up short by a kick inside her. They exchanged regretful glances

"We daren't trip the light fantastic as we used to. We have to be responsible," Helen said, clearly torn two ways.

"We know Helen,"sang out Trisha from behind them." We had to push the pair of you to get this far and not to take up wearing fluffy slippers and knitting bootees. Let's all go up to the VIP lounge for a bit."

Gratefully, the rest of the women followed Trisha's lead up the staircase and into a room built for comfortable socialising while the rhythms of the music provided background colouration. To Nikki and Helen, the ambiance of this club provided an almost unbearably nostalgic flavour of a long felt experience seen through the past darkly.

"What was it like when you became a mother? Do you know, I've never asked the question before," Beth asked of Karen.

"What indeed darling?" Karen said vaguely, eyebrows knitted in concentration to recall the past. "Even my last years at Larkhall feel like they belonged to someone else as I've changed so much. I joined the WRAF when I was seventeen and trained up as a state registered nurse and got married when I was twenty after I got pregnant. I ended up with not one child but two so bearing all the responsibility was hard grind. I remember it through a blur of hard work, dirty nappies and, as I thought, all the fun I had in my life was over. Nikki and I are bound to be way luckier than I ever was," Karen replied in reflective tones that verged on the morose. She was aware that this wasn't the right tack the conversation should be taking and shifted her tone to call everyone to the aid of the party as she raised her glass. "Still, this isn't the time to talk about serious things. This is the time to enjoy ourselves. Cheers everyone."

"Sorry darling, Beth whispered under her breath underneath the rousing cheers that followed the toast. Karen squeezed her hand and kissed her lightly on her reddened lips in reply. The friendly chatter carried on as the women from all walks of life renewed their acquaintance and caught up with each other's lives. Helen was in high spirits as the others even though she was drinking orange squash.

"At last we've found you and we've brought a catch with us as well," called out a familiar amused aristocratic voice up the stairwell, keeping everyone guessing. Behind Alice's tall dark beauty, a smiling Jo Mills appeared in the space allowed her. She was welcomed by cheers of welcome which dispelled the last traces of her nerves. Three more chairs were dragged into the circle.

For a while they all chatted and drank until sally-Anne quietly drifted up from the dance floor to join them. This was the cue for a ripple of movement for the more eager dancers to stand -Anne decided to step in here.

"Trisha and I'll keep Helen and Nikki company if you guys want to dance," she suggested with a sidelong glance at Trisha."Everything's quiet downstairs."

There was a rummer of assent and Karen led the way downstairs, swaying slightly and ready to rock.

Meanwhile down in the crush, Ros and Jenny had been dancing away and shaken free all the past weeks controlled constraints of their uniformed job. They zeroed in on the bar for a couple of beers straight out of the bottle.

"This is the life," Ros exclaimed with a sense of satisfaction and all's right with the world.

"It's not me and you babes against the world. I look around here and feel at home. Some of the women are really nice, like Nikki and Helen," Jenny said in a hazy sentimental mood."Take a look at those two older women coming our way-they're real lookers."

Two women were moving towards them from the club entrance, linking arms in a loving manner. They wore flowered dresses cut a little above the knee, and shoulder length hair flowing round their faces. One of them broke into a wide smile and called out to them in a friendly fashion.

"Hey Ros and Jenny, fancy seeing you here. I'm Joy and my partner is Maureen who you won't have met before."

"Joy who?" queried Ros blankly. She'd never seen this woman before at Chix though something about her struck a chord.

"Joy as in DI Joy Taylor," she replied casually with a smile curving her lips.

Ros blushed deeply and her hands ruffled her hair in a state of confusion and then made an awkward salute. Jenny wasn't much better. Thinking about it afterwards, they'd never been more taken aback in their lives.

"Hey take it easy you guys. You know what the score is on duty but off duty, I'm Joy and she's Maureen" Joy said to the two flustered women in easy reassuring tones.

"We'll try and chill out," Ros replied not altogether convincingly. Unknown to her, four women had slipped onto the dance floor area from upstairs and were grinning broadly.

"It's our first time here. We heard about it on the net. We'd be really grateful if you could introduce us as I'm sure you're regulars here," Joy asked politely, smiling kindly on them while Maureen slipped her arm round her lover's waist. This little gesture steadied the other two women who now became aware of their audience. Ros took the initiative.

"Oh yeah, let me introduce you to Trisha and Sally-Anne who own the club. With them are Nikki and Helen, their dearest friends. This is Joy and Maureen who we know already from work"

A lively conversation started up and the two new visitors looked like any other wide-eyed women who found themselves instantly at home, feeling free and open and promising to make this club a regular, time permitting. Ros and Jenny saw these two women like any other couple the way they talked about life outside work. Eventually they joined the happy dancing throng and finally Ros unburdened herself.

"If you guys ever tell on us what total plonkers me made of ourselves, we'll nick you for driving in a suspicious fashion or anything else we can make up."

"Hey relax," Nikki urged, a smile still lingering on her face. She knew their friends were kidding but she felt their friend's embarrassment keenly. "The only kind of police we'd ever socialise with are the dyke kind. You two are such sweethearts that we'd never do that to you. We promise. I mean it."

"Not sure if sweetheart is the right word but we trust you. We trusted both of you from the time we pulled you over for swerving to avoid a non existent cat. You get feelings about people," Jenny said softly with a flicker of tenderness in her eyes.

"Best of luck with the baby," Ros added, playfully punching Nikki lightly on her arm before they headed back to the bar for a refill.

Meanwhile, on another part of the dance floor, Jo was dancing with Jane Lancaster. She'd finally crossed the line as was free to be as she wished. It felt like a lifetime ago when she'd trailed after the group of women clattering excitedly down the flight of steps but she'd stopped on the edge of the dance floor while the others piled in. Their destinies were made while hers was not. She watched the women swaying together to the rhythm of the music and her eyes opened wide. What poured into her overloaded senses was a reel to reel dream. It was all so easy, Jo's lips mouthed, to forget the ideas of the woman of her covert dreams and get over anxious. This time around, she'd got under and out from Mel's influence and, here she was, a single woman eyeing up all the talent like she did years and years ago at the school

dances years ago. There was no real difference , she coolly thought, as she coolly exchanged glances, stares and moved on . Finally, her gaze locked on Jane Lancaster. The blond woman's hair curled round her shoulders just so, her full red lips, her bold stare,her gorgeous red dress cut outrageously short and her long legs compelled her to look once again at her.

Jo suddenly felt that she looked good enough herself in her short black skirt and she summoned up her most flirtatious self. She sensed that Jane really liked her like that as she zeroed in on her.

"Hey hello,"Jo said through lowered lids.

"Want to dance, babes?" Jane replied. It was less a question than an expression of desire and, this time, Jo was up for that.

"I thought you'd never ask, sweetheart," Jo replied huskily as her hand slid into Jane's and they went out onto the dance floor. This time, Jo resolved, things would be different.

Nikki was weeping copiously , her hands rubbing her eyes and bent forward on her seat. Helen's arm was laid protectively round her shoulders and Trisha's on her arm. They were grouped round a table on which were many empty glasses.

"You're all so good to me. I'm back where I belong, me and Helen I mean. Somehow we won't stay away. And it's Helen who's having our baby," she said in short spasms of words

"Don't worry sweetheart, I understand everything," came the beautifully accented voice from out of the fog of emotion, telling her that everything would be all right as she wanted to believe. Her flood of emotion had come from out of nowhere.

"We wouldn't let you do that to yourselves," Trisha said soothingly, knowing she had all the time to stick with her friends while Sally-Anne was taking care of business elsewhere. She paused deliberately before speaking very slowly and deliberately, as much as to Helen as well as Nikki.

"I'm, no expert on babies. No matter how busy you are bringing up your child, the rest of us'll be there patiently for when you have the time. George and Karen are our resident experts," she said with the right mixture of levity and sincerity. Well said, Trisha, thought Helen to herself.

"Everything's going to take a little working out but we'll try," she offered with all the warm conviction she could summon up. It did the trick in calming Nikki down.

"I did wonder if you'd start having our baby right there on the dance floor," Nikki chipped in with a trace of her normal humour. She recalled how Helen's gentle swaying to the music was pushing their luck but concluded that her partner knew what her body was capable of.

"Can I hug Nikki?" Trisha asked of Helen, feeling that it was the right thing to do knowing Nikki of old.

"Of course you can. We're sisters under the skin," Helen answered warmly and tenderly.

Nikki melted into Trisha's compassionate arms. Her friend reminded her of years gone by and what they could hold onto if they chose to. Meanwhile the soft pulse of the music below them lent comfort and intimacy to the scene.

Elsewhere on the dance floor, Jane Lancaster was thinking that this was the life, this was what she worked for all week, getting dressed to the nines on Saturday night with that thrill of anticipation, dancing her frustrations off at Chix and getting off with her woman for the night. Much to her surprise, she'd locked eyes with Jo Mills and she made the first move. After they'd started dancing, she'd been happy to let the other woman set the pace and when they started dancing slowly together, she'd felt a definite sexual thrill when she'd felt the other woman's hand slide into the curve of her back and slowly work itself further down as they embraced. She sensed that the evening would unreel itself with a sense of delightful inevitability. She figured out that she'd seriously underestimated Jo Mills and that still waters run deep and she made all the right moves. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a number of women moving off the dance floor for a breather before Jo's soft arms round her neck and her lips brushing against her ear reclaimed her attention while the swirl of coloured lights further tantalised her.

"When the baby's due to be born, you'll phone us and spread the good word," Karen said standing four-square with her arms folded, the rest of their friends standing around them in the VIP room. "You're doing this for the rest of us ."

Nikki and Helen looked up open eyed at Karen while Trisha looked on with fond amusement. She knew the thought had not crossed her friend's minds.

An hour or so later, Jane was arching her back in ecstasy and emitting short sharp sounds of pleasure as she lay full length on her bed, her knees doubled up and waves of pleasure surged through her. . Sure enough, between her legs a slim woman with medium length blond hair was expertly pleasuring her with her tongue and eagerly running her hands over her body. She's a real babe,Jane blissfully thought to herself in her pleasure bedazzled mind and second time lucky for both of us as her lover was definitely making up for lost time. She'd known how hungry Jo was for her but didn't realise that she really knew her way round a bed. Finally, Jane came to an intense climax that seemed to last for ages and her lover stayed with her right to the end. After they'd rested for a little while, she reluctantly moved away from Jane's centre and slid up the length of her body.

"I hope you think I was worth waiting for," murmured the woman in seductive tones, feeling better than she'd ever felt for a long time before she delivered a long, lingering kiss. Jo Mills was finally where she had wanted to be for a long time. She had just needed a little steering in the right direction and her eyes had opened wide as she'd seen how ravishing Jane was when she'd first seen her naked. When she first lay next to the younger woman, she made sure of caressing her nipples lovingly with her lips and tongue.

"My God, where have you been hiding yourself all this time? Don't you know how hot you are?" exclaimed Jane. The tipping point for this evening was when they'd started kissing in earnest in the foyer in Chix and Jo murmured should they go back to her place as they pressed against each other.

"I've only slept with a woman once before. That ended badly," Jo said a little shortly before she realised that whatever there had between her and Mel was in the past."Still that was then and this is now," she added before started to kiss the other woman's ears and neck and running her fingertips started teasing her nipples.

"Well, I'm really glad I've got you on the rebound babes. It's my turn to pleasure you and show you what I can do for you," Jane answered, her voice promising everything.

"I want to make love with you all night long," Jo answered in startlingly direct, hungry tones as she took the other woman's forefinger and her lips started to suckle it..

"That's what I want to hear babe,"came Jane's chuckling reply, her spirits boosted by this woman's declaration of her lusts. She'd really got Jo Mills so dead wrong when she'd once complained about her to Kristine as her leg started to rub against her lover's

Jo lay back as the other woman moved on top of her. She loved looking up at this gorgeous looking woman and feeling her caresses as she knew instinctively just how to rouse her pleasures. As she lay full length, her tongue greedily searching deep in Jo's mouth, she felt her hand start to wander down the length of her body, to stroke the inside of her thighs. In turn, she ran her fingers through her lover's fair hair and round her shoulder blades. She felt an intense heat inside her as she realised how long it was that she'd made love to a woman. She was already wet inside when Jane slid her two fingers inside her and started working inside her. Everything felt so good, everything felt real as her hips worked back against her lover's fingers and their two bodies moved as one. Finally, Jo built up to a glorious earth shaking orgasm that seemed to go on for ever as she cried out in sheer joy at each spasm within her. It felt an eternity since she'd had such good sex like this.

When she finally came to, her lover was cradling her with one arm while slowly, she licked and sucked at the fingers who had been inside her. She looked so much like a naughty schoolgirl that Jo laughed softly, her own mouth tasting good inside.

"Bet you didn't know you taste so good," came the sultry reply

"Then let's share," Jo urged, looping her arm round her lover's neck and seeking our her lover's mouth in a long, deep kiss, their tongues mingling. This was where she was meant to be with no regrets, no guilt and no hangups. It was enough for Jo to enjoy blissfully the pleasures of the moment.


	13. Chapter 13

A chill bright wind whipped down the length of the street down which a white hire van made its purposeful journey. Behind the wheel sat a diminutive woman with shortish blond hair which fell carelessly down each side of her face. She cursed under her breath as she struggled to stretch down to the accelerator pedal.

"Careful Cassie," called out an anxious female voice in a pronounced Irish brogue as she was hypersensitive to the unaccustomed width of the vehicle and the parked cars they passed.

"Just relax babes. It's like riding a bike. Once you learn, you never forget. It's like something else I can think of," the blond retorted with a mischievous grin. "It's just that whoever built this van had six foot guys in mind to drive them. You're not worried, you guys?" she asked.

"Of course we're not," replied two child voices in two part harmony from the depths of the back of the van which was crammed to the limits with the contents of their former home. In the left hand corner, Michael and Niamh were squashed into an armchair, Ikea bags carrying their personal belongings resting in their laps. They knew that Cassie's influence had persuaded Mum to worry less than she used to so she agreed to them being where the action was in this exciting adventure, the move to their new home.

"Have faith in me, Roash. Where there's a will, there's a way," Cassie said gently to the dark-haired woman sitting next to her. Roisin Connor's anxious expression gave way to the other side of her, a brilliant warm smile and sparkling blue eyes that increasingly faced down her natural inclination to worry

"Our home's on the right, second house from the corner, the nearer side," called out Roisin excitedly. With a grin of satisfaction, Cassie swung the wheel hard over and brought the van to a halt with a stylish swerve. There it was, what looked like a large imposing mansion to them though, in truth, they were to occupy the downstairs right hand half of it. Their flight of steps on their side ran in two stages past a big tree on the right facing them and a large red door with a lamp overhead greeted their presence along with the Georgian front sash windows for the main bedroom, just as Roisin remembered when she'd scouted out the property. She wasn't sure if she remembered the details right as what clinched the matter in her heart was the encounter on the way out.

"Hiya," a friendly Scottish accent cut in on her musings."Are you going to be the new tenant?" The newcomer was a naturally petite woman in the late stages of pregnancy. What drew Roisin's eye was the warm friendly smile that accompanied her greeting, her sparkling green eyes, neat short hair and patterned maternity dress.

"I am indeed once my partner and I sign the agreement. I can't believe we're lucky to come across a palace like this."

"Nicky and I have been here two and a half years. I find it it's comfortable around here," Roisin heard Helen say

"We'll appreciate that as we're moving here also to get away from my ex-husband who's been a pig and no use to my children. I know they'll just love the back garden. You'll find yours a blessing when your time comes,"Roisin said brightly and rapidly in her normal friendly chatter after the shadows blew away from talk of her ex. She instantly warmed to Helen and saw her presence as a sign of approval on the flat.

"You're looking further forward than we are," Roisin heard the her new friend nervously confess,"My partner Nicky and I are both feeling L-plateish when it comes to babies. Everything centres on the birth and we can't even consider anything beyond it. By the way, I'm Helen Stewart," she finished, holding out her hand.

Helen took in this thoroughly conventional appearing Irishwoman who looked the maternal type and was very restful and comforting. It was something she needed as her increasing size made her increasingly nervous about the birth. Old wives tales seemed to surface from out of her subconscious no matter how rational the ante natal classes were and how supportive her partner was. She was on maternity leave and she had way too much time to let her imagination run riot.

"And I'm Roisin Connor," she said, accepting the other woman's firm grip. "I must be going to secure the tenancy but we will definitely look you and Nicky up as soon as we get here."

 **"** All right kids, time to let you out," Cassie called out in her free and easy fashion, breaking into Roisin's musings. The children passed the bags through the narrow space and then Cassie grasped first Michael, then Niamh to help them struggle through the space. Soon, the two women got down to business in surveying the contents of their home they'd crammed into the open back doors of the van, the two children standing by their sides.

"So where do we start in getting everything inside boss?" Cassie asked in flippant yet respectful tones.

"Children, you know which bags are yours and all the smaller bits and pieces, right?"

Two heads nodded earnestly in reply.

"Cassie and I have the front bedroom which opens from the first door on the right. You have a bedroom each and the door to them is second and third door to your right as you walk down the hall," Roisin continued with decided hand gestures and verbal emphasis. So far so good.

"But who's having which bedroom? I don't want to be right at the back," interjected Michael which temporarily flummoxed Roisin. Her partner came to the rescue, seeing the older child push for personal advantage.

"All right, you guys. I''l flip this 50P coin to decide who has which bedroom. You've got equal claims so this is only fair. Niamh can call," Cassie said decisively, earning Roisin's admiration at this adroit move.

"But that's not fair," protested Michael." She gets an unfair advantage."

"The coin's only got two sides. She can as easily lose as win. Remember, both you guys stick with the fall of the coin. Is that OK with you," Cassie countered. Michael gave up in despair. Cassie was too sharp-witted for him to beat and impervious to guilt as he well knew.

"Heads," called out Niamh and both children watched wide-eyed as the shiny coin spun through the air to be expertly caught by Cassie who turned it up. Heads it was. Michael pulled a face.

"What's special about one room than another, Michael?" Roisin called out softly and tenderly to him."You know I don't like to see either of you take second place but you have to keep your word." The little boy shrugged his shoulders as he realised that he'd been trying to be mean and he ought to act like a man.

"Come on Niamh, let's get our rooms ready. Where do you want us to put our stuff, Cassie?" he called out in his mature voice, straightening out the potential tension with the fair-haired woman who only meant well for everyone.

"Try and put everything along the lines of the window. Mum and I are wheeling in the cooker and one of us will phone up to get it connected and then we'll bring in your beds."

The four of them went at it with a will, the two children carrying on with the small household items while the two women sweated and strained with three piece suite, fridge freezer, the cooker, their double bed and wardrobes. It was only when the van was entirely empty and everything was roughly in place where it was dumped when Cassie wiped her streaming brow.

"All right you guys, I think we deserve a drink and something to eat. we're still waiting for the guy to connect the cooker so what about phoning up for a pizza as a change from home cooking," Cassie pronounced with a sidelong glance seeking approval from Roisin who was normally a stickler for home cooking as the children well knew. This was Roisin's cue to step in.

"That's a great idea. Everyone must feel as starved as I am. I'm not going to even consider cooking us a meal depending on when the gas man may or may not turn up. I'll get us all some drinks," Roisin said very definitely to audible grins from the children.

"You two decide what we want. You'll know," Michael volunteered.

Roisin poured two large tumblers full of fizzy coke and made coffee for herself and Cassie, white and one sugar for herself and black coffee, no sugar for Cassie. Roisin smiled as she poured it. When they first started living together and discover each others' particular habits, this struck her as something that Cassie might assume to demonstrate her superficial toughness. They flopped down into their cosy three piece suite and stretched out their legs while Cassie made the call.

"I can't believe you mum," Michael declared, shaking his head in wonder." Before you went away, you used to be completely different."

"I've always done my best to care for you," responded Roisin immediately, something of her old shrill Catholic guilt rising to the surface. Michael realised he hadn't made himself clear.

"You get me wrong. You're more relaxed than you used to be-thanks to Cassie." Niamh smiled agreement with her big brother and a warm feeling of relief spread through Roisin's system. She rushed forward to hug both children to her.

"I heard that Michael. Keep talking that way," sang out Cassie as she was struggling to place the order for the pizza. At that moment, both women loved their children and each other more than ever. Michael was growing up, they realised as he'd handled the reference to their problematic past in a mature fashion given the circumstances.

Roisin Connor and her husband Aiden had moved to England a number of years ago to follow where the work was. To help family finances, Roisin had gone back to working after dutifully raising her children when they were little and she'd found the finance company surprisingly receptive to a mature woman whose versatility as a personal assistant had been enhanced by child-rearing. One day, the bank gave her one Cassie Tyler, a super-confident high flying smart suited young executive whose magic left Roisin open-mouthed from the word go. In very short time, something tingled inside her at the thought of coming to work and she felt herself becoming a new woman every time she passed through the glass doors. One thing led to another and, before she knew what she was doing, the careful Roisin Connor found herself helping out with a special £47,000 private investment project, suitably altering the books to cover the transactions. At the end of the day, she'd go home to her husband and Cassie to her singles flat except for brief hours of time that they sneaked away. When she realised she was falling in love with another woman for the first time in her life, fate stepped in as the police suddenly swooped and she was imprisoned along with Cassie Tyler. She was suddenly pitchforked into a cruel dilemma of her new lover and the overwhelming guilt and sense of helplessness that her children were left behind for Aiden to look after. It took a horrifying descent into drugs to precipitate Cassie, the eternal single woman, into becoming a second mother as well as Roisin's lover. That chance came sooner than expected when Roisin showed unexpected grit in rescuing the Governing Governor from a fire generated by a bomb blast and being pardoned. Once discharged from prison, they'd succeeded in wresting custody of their children from the clutches of Aiden and his domineering mother. Of course, the payback was being on the receiving end of low level harassment that couldn't bring the culprits within the scope of the law. Fearful of the possible damaging effects on their children, they'd upped sticks and moved out of the area, even changing schools. It was this turbulent history that Michael had delicately alluded to which brought tears to Cassie's eyes that were visible once she'd come off the phone.

"We're making a new start, you guys. Your mother and I'll look after you, no sweat," Cassie said, breaking the long contemplative silence as their collective past flashed before their eyes.

"You're our mother too, Cassie. Having two mums is different and nice," Niamh chirped up in her innocent tones. This got through to Cassie's emotions - she never dared to make such a claim to their children as she'd kept this thought with Roisin alone. Cassie laid aside her phone and eagerly joined in with the group hug.

"What's the matter with the gas man and the pizza delivery," exclaimed the house-proud Roisin irritably a while later after the four of them had tidied away what had been previously dropped roughly in place. "Having a disembodied cooker on our hands feels like having a leg missing."

"You're hungry, Roache. I can tell it," teased Cassie gently to the children's amusement. Such playfulness amongst the grown-ups made them feel secure.

"I'll go outside and keep an eye on them," Roisin said, looking visibly agitated

"OK, you do that. There are light-fingered door knockers around," Cassie said casually, knowing that this was the best outlet for Roisin's agitation while waiting for the man to come.

The dark-haired woman felt a lock of hair fly across her face as soon as she hit the cold winds outside. By sheer chance, a red Peugeot rounded the corner and pulled up outside the next door house. out stepped Helen Stewart and she gave a big smile and a friendly wave. Instantly Roisin's spirits were lifted.

"You've got here at last Roisin. May I introduce my partner, Nicky Wade who I told you about," Roisin heard Helen say.

From the driver's door, a tall slim figure appeared, stylishly dressed in a slightly pinstripe suit with longish hair, parted to one side with a pleasant boyish expression and deep brown eyes. Roisin was both confused and delighted that this stranger had well-shaped breasts and the truth became clear. And to think she'd thought Helen was straight.

"I'm really delighted to meet you, more than I expected," Roisin stammered, her pleasure evident to the taller woman who was gratified at this warm welcome.

"That's great as Helen told me how well you got on when you met,"Nikki said in her pleasant, cultured tones, offering a firm handshake. Both women were feeling on top of the world after their night out at Chix that had enabled them to regain their bearings.

"My lover, Cassie Tyler is inside with our two children. I know we'll all get on fine," Roisin said breathlessly, hugging first one woman and then the next.

"We wondered why you'd been quiet about your partner. There's nothing to worry about," grinned Helen.

Just then, a motorbike sputtered into sight with the longed for pizza in the backrack while just behind it was the white van at last to fix their cooker. This threw Roisin into a state of confusion.

"It's the van come to fix our cooker and the pizza delivery," Roisin confessed apologetically. .

"Don't worry,"offered Helen kindly, understanding the other woman's conflicts between duty and pleasure." You come and give us a knock when you're ready for us to come round. We're not going anywhere."

With a smile of gratitude, Roisin led the way for the pizza delivery and gas man to come in and Cassie was pleasantly surprised to see a radiant Roisin re-enter the room while she was supervising Michael and Niamh play a game of draughts on the floor.


	14. Chapter 14

"Are you about to have a baby? How's that possible?" the wide-eyed Niamh asked Helen as they sat round in a circle, Roisin and Cassie squeezed into the two seater settee in the living room of their new home, finally straightened out after the workmen had gone. To Helen, leaning back in the armchair with cushions to support her back, it looked like a rough mirror image of their own home. She paid keen attention to the way it was more cluttered with the acquisitions that came with a family. Nikki gallantly sat at her side in a picnic chair.

"Well, errm," Helen started slowly saying, racking her mind for inspiration for a reply scaled down to what she thought was children's level. "You've heard about the birds and the bees." She found words coming out of her mouth on automatic pilot that she vowed she would never say in a month of Sundays. Damn her father, she thought angrily as she screwed her eyes up tight and sensed the ripple of amusement run round the room,.

"Of course we have, Helen. They say that at school and joke about that on the school playground," Michael said, trying not to be too unkind

"Nice one Helen," sang out Cassie. "You've test driven a line that Roache and I were debating about."

"The difference between humans and animals," interjected Nikki slowly and clearly, rescuing Helen from her embarrassed blushes," is that we can think and make choices. Helen and I are old-fashioned romantics. We want to start a family together like any other couple. The trouble is as you should know, that two female eggs don't start a baby. St Mary's Hospital very kindly let a male friend of ours give them sperm and placed them with my egg inside Helen to grow into a baby. Does this make sense?"

The two children looked doubtfully around them. It told Nikki and Helen that they thought this sounded disembodied, strange and something out of the space age.

"You don't agree with us, do you," pursued Nikki very softly and gently. The two children wriggled awkwardly. They didn't want to offend these nice friendly grown ups but couldn't get their heads round the idea.

"So doesn't the father matter?" Michael questioned at last.

"Who's more of a parent, the man who makes the woman start to have a baby and is never more seen or heard of again or the woman or man who comforts a crying baby, tells the boy he's done really well in school for getting a gold star for his painting and will always be there to help him," Roisin interjected as calmly as she could manage with a meaning look in his direction, seeing that their friends were in difficulties."You've heard in school of a couple adopting a child- isn't that's more or less the same thing?"

"Er, the second one," Michael said in uncertain tones, his face clouded over with discomfort adding more confidently, looking sideways at Niamh who nudged him in the ribs."OK,now we get it."

"Well done you guys," Cassie said softly and gently, eliciting a warm smile from the boy. He felt that Cassie's praise meant a lot without knowing why "What for?" he asked.

"For being moral enough and quick on the uptake to change your mind and say so. Not every grown-up can do what you did."

"Don't want to say too much but thanks. Thanks a lot," Helen said, accompanied by Nikki's warm smile. She remembered the very rare occasions when his father's circle of friends compelled him to say nice things about her and she couldn't take too much of grown up attention.

"Can I play a game of cards in Niamh's bedroom?" Michael asked with an appealing look in both Cassie and Roisin's direction. "Course you can," Roisin answered at which the two children scuttled back into their safe world.

"Don't know about you guys but I really fancy a drink but we're clean out of booze," muttered Cassie slightly disconsolately. Triumphantly, Nikki produced a bottle of white wine from out of the bag she'd been mysteriously carrying. all the women's faces brightened up at once.

"Now gorgeous," I've got you to myself," Cassie breathed lustfully to her lover as she pulled her close and down into the depths of the duvet.. It was several hours later after their two friends had made their cheery farewell and the two children had been settled down to bed with less reluctance than normal. On the face of it, they were dead tired from their share of their exertions and should sleep soundly or so Cassie calculated. To her disappointment, she felt resistance in her lover's body which dampened down her ardour.

"Not so fast Cassie," Roisin answered in level tones, her fingers ruffling her lover's hair."This is the children's first night in a new home. Don't count on the way they're tired and love our new home to mean that we might not get a disturbed night. We're a family now thanks to you so it means that one or other of them will get frightened in the night. A fine sight two mums will look if you're exploring my nether regions."

"So what are you trying to tell me Roache," Cassie said, disappointment and hurt clear in every syllable, pulling her arms back from her lover.

"I never said that we can't indulge ourselves a little but don't let's get carried away so we can't become mums again in an instant. Tonight, I really want us to touch each other. Tomorrow night I reckon it'll be safe to want us to go down on each other- for a long long time,"Roisin said in a clear self possessed voice into which she exuded her own desires while her fingers stroked her lover's neck and shoulders.

"Good thinking gorgeous,"Cassie sighed as she layed on top of her lover and started kissing her deeply. Roisin blissfully wound her arms round her lover's shoulders and intertwined their legs with her lover's for awhile, gently rocking back and forth. After a while, both women moved back to where they'd been and eased each other's nighties up above their bodies. Beneath the covers, they ran their hands all over each other's bodies and kissed and caressed each others' neck and shoulders. Suddenly, Roisin slyly slipped one of Cassie's nightie straps off her shoulder and her lips and tongue eagerly sought out and caressed one of the blonde's rosy nipples. It had an electrifying effect on her.

"Keep doing that to me gorgeous. You feel so good," groaned Cassie softly, her back arching in ecstasy. Roisin finally kissed her lover softly and deeply and delicately slid her nightie strap back in place.

"You didn't tell me we could do that," Cassie protested softly, kissing Roisin back again and keeping her voice down..

"Why do you think I put on my extra loose fitting nightie? It looks mother like and it has its advantages," laughed Roisin softly and invitingly. Because she looked so innocent and proper, these unexpected declarations of lust always did things to Cassie.

"Oh good. I love your boobs in case you didn't know. I used to find ways of sneaking a peek at them when we worked at the finance company. Now I've got you where I want you," Cassie said lasciviously as she eased the material aside and she hungrily teased the diamond hard shape the best she knew how.

"Any time," came the response through ragged breaths. All this time, they moved around each other and finally, they slid a hand each to caress each other's stomachs and finally slid fingers down to the parts of their bodies that were begging out for loving attention. Finally, they felt each other climax together through the feel of their writhing bodies and the wetness of their hands. Finally their breathing returned to normal and they held each other close in the marvellous peace of mind in their room. These moments were what the daytime slog was destined to achieve.

"Climax quietly or the children will hear," joked Cassie which made Roisin laugh softly. It prompted Roisin to move her right hand and carefully lick the fingers and palm of her hand.

"Mmm, tastes nice, doesn't it?" Cassie teased. To her great surprise, her lover turned away to rummage around inside their bedside cupboard to resurface with bottle of scent and a a packet full of scented tissues. She started wiping her right hand clean and sprayed it briefly. Cassie expressed her incomprehension with her open mouth and raised eyebrows and the dark-haired woman caught the drift of her question.

"The children might still wake. I don't want to try and settle them down with the evidence of my lusts on my hands. I suggest you do the same," she directed firmly.

"Proper little girl guide aren't you? Be prepared,"Cassie teased as she licked her own hand clean and more reluctantly borrowed the tissues.

"Indeed I was. You know how conservative I used to be," Roisin responded with her sudden smile. It captivated Cassie all over again and she became more willing to fall in with her lover's wishes.

"Now let's have a cuddle and settle down to sleep," Cassie murmured as they settled into each other's arms. The blond-haired woman felt a curious alertness in the feel of Roisin's body. Suddenly, her sharp ears detected the ever so faint creaking sound of a door being opened, followed by a second one and the sound of footprints on the landing. She blessed herself for having been so insistent.

"Come on sweetheart. Mother's duty calls us," Roisin said softly. She switched on the sidelight as it was preferable to being painfully dazzled by the main lights being clicked on. After both women blinked their eyes open, they saw two childish forms in the doorway.

"Don't tell me, children. You woke up and felt scared in a brand new house," Roisin called out in her soft maternal tones.

"We didn't want to wake you mums but Niamh got worried so I thought she needed help," Michael said, his downcast eyes and body language betraying his own discomfort while Niamh clung to him.

"Darlings, we quite understand. First night isn't easy. We'll tuck you into bed," Roisin said in her warm reassuring manner, dispelling the mental ghoulies and ghosties that had woken them up. Secretly, she was worried in case her nightie betrayed signs of their lovemaking.

"That's what mums are for," added Cassie confidently, implying that this was no big deal

"I bags Cassie," Michael piped up, sensing that he could do with the blond haired woman's carefree style that got him off the hook of looking like a scared little boy.

Each woman took the child by the hand and Cassie knelt on the floor and lightly brushed the boy's tousled hair as he settled down in bed. A question flitted across his mind as it felt safe to ask and he knew Cassie would tell it to him straight.

"Haven't you ever been scared of anything in your life, Cassie? You don't look as if you ever have been."

Cassie saw the boy look directly at her and she chose her words carefully. She knew that he was more sensitive than he made out and what she said would make a difference. It was both scary and flattering how much responsibility was laid on her, something which she was now willing to gladly shoulder. She hadn't always been that way and it took being imprisoned with Roisin to get her to mature.

"It's OK to be just a little scared Michael. The thing is that there's always an answer out there if you look hard enough or talk to those you're close to and find the answer. Some grown ups get by in appearing dead confident on the surface. That doesn't matter so long as you find your own way of dealing with it. Does that make sense?"

A wide smile spread across the boy's face. Cassie was smart and she made him want to be like her. He looked up at this kind beautiful woman in the soft dim light.

"It's easier for you and mum. I see how you make each other happy like you always do when you look after us. When I was little, grown-ups were arguing all the time. Niamh and I feel safe now. We'll be all right, even at our new school," Michael replied earnestly, his last throwaway remark revealing what was really worrying him. Sooner or later, he could have to deal with a new set of schoolchildren and have to face up to living with two mums. It was on the tip of Cassie's tongue to pursue the matter but she decided not to.

"You can talk to either of us any time. You know that," she said lightly

"Course I do. Night night, mum. You can turn the light out," Michael said sleepily, curling himself up contentedly in bed. Cassie tiptoed away and lightly closed the door behind her. As she stopped, uncertain where to go to next, a smiling Roisin appeared from the next door bedroom. As they lightly paced back to their bedroom, it crossed their minds that, the other side of their bedroom wall, Nikki and Helen would be curled up in their bed and would guard over them in their sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

On a bitterly cold, sunshiny day when blinding beams of light shaped its oblique path into Nikki's office, its owner was in a state of despair and was running her hands through her hair. The irony of it was that she'd had a completely free hand in doing her follow-up study on Larkhall Prison yet she found herself polishing off more routine work and not facing up to what should have been the ideal project. The more she tried to face her mind block, the more she realised the the only thing stopping her doing her project was herself. at that point, she threw her Biro across the room in frustration.

"I didn't think that working for the Howard League is as fraught as all that. Am I such a terrible boss?" Paul Armstrong observed in droll tones behind Nikki's back as she scrambled to retrieve her Biro from the furthest corners of her room. As she turned round, she was blushing faintly.

"I'm sorry Paul, I'm getting incredibly wound up over this follow up study of Larkhall Prison. It ought to be a dream come true but it isn't for reasons I can't put my finger on," confessed Nikki in a state of embarrassment.

"I'll make us a cup of tea and then we'll talk. You use me to bounce ideas off as that's what I'm here for. In the meantime, don't try and do anything," the man said in soft gentle tones.

Nikki smiled softly at this guy's ability to relax her in a way not far short from what Helen could do for her. She let herself gaze into the blinding sunlight with pleasure rather than complain under her breath at it spoiling the images on her computer screen. She found herself laying back and clearing the clutter from her mind. With such support at home and work, what cause had she got to wind herself into a state of screwed up isolation? As she let her mind flow free, preliminary ideas started filtering into her consciousness that only needed a little work on. Soon Paul came back with two mugs of tea made just right and that little gesture of kindness touched her. They sat in companionable silence till Nikki was ready to speak.

"It's all about chronology," Nikki said, reaching for a scrap of paper on which she'd scrawled notes." I got released from Larkhall Prison on November 24th 2000 and did my investigation on August 24th 2001, about nine months afterwards. I found that Grayling was the new Governing Governor but apart from that, not much had changed. I was able to tune in pretty quickly along with help from old friends and the skills I'd picked up here. Today is March 11th 2003 which is a long way down the line. Even if I've stayed close to my roots, Larkhall is bound to have changed. I no longer feel sure of myself to go back in and research it properly."

"What's so special about Larkhall as opposed to Holloway and other women's prisons? It's not all the trouble that the establishment concocted for you and Helen, is it?" pursued Paul gently, feeling for the correct words that wouldn't impute blame.

"Good question Paul,. I know it isn't In any case, I'd thought up a fail safe device in asking George as well as you to run over the finished product if you don't mind."

Nikki said intensely, looking Paul straight in the eye. The man didn't say anything. He respected his subordinate's unflinching honesty but also remembered how her previous report had caused the establishment to take revenge by using the Official Secrets Act against Nikki's supposed informant, Helen Stewart. This silence forced Nikki to enlarge on her statement in a flood of words.

"I do want to go back to Larkhall Prison Paul," Nikki said in more reflective tones, reaching for a cigarette. "I haven't lost any of my street awareness I gained when I was a prisoner when I go round other prisons. It's like riding a bike," Nikki began to say and paused to light her cigarette. After she'd exhaled her first drag, she continued as the ideas fell into shape." The longer I've been working here only gives me more confidence. Larkhall's weird though, very changeable. Nothing is what it seems. I know I've been too long out of the loop. If I could get back there underground even for a short while, I know that that plus an official investigation by myself would do the job properly but you know and I know that I'd be outed. I need someone like me but at this point, I'm stuck "

Paul resisted the foolish temptation to ask Nikki if she had any ideas to get round the problem. He knew that if she had, she would have spoken. What he said or didn't say mattered very much to this highly sensitive woman who held him in high esteem.

"You've got a problem all right," he said at last. It drew a half-smile in response but a long silence clouded the room as he strolled around the room as he racked his brain for a solution.

"What about your friend Kristine?" Paul ventured at last, sitting on the corner of her desk.

"Sure she's a great researcher but how could she get the inside information? I really need it?" Nikki retorted abruptly, a frown on her face.

"You and I look for an answer if we can sense it first. When you're really stuck, you have to reach out blindly into the darkness and have faith," Paul replied, slowly and evenly and looking deliberately into her big brown eyes.

Nikki was touched to the core by this sunlight shaft of sensitivity and understanding. This guy spoke her basic language of intuition and she silently blessed him for it. She swallowed and her eyes brimmed over briefly with tears of gratitude.

"You're right. I'll do it. There's nothing to lose."

Silently, Paul got up and slid out of the room, leaving Nikki the privacy to sort out this problem on her own.

In Kristine's room, high up in the concrete modernist tower block of the University of London, Kristine was deep in thought, contemplating her situation, For some while, she'd been bothered by subterranean impulses that she couldn't pinpoint and only found the answer when she'd finished marking the last essay from her students and e mailed it back to the sender. What gradually took shape in her mind in brilliant coloured illumination was for her to go undercover in a woman's prison and do her own research. This was one of those a mind boggling mad schemes that had inspired her to shape her life as, for example, whoever had heard before of a blind lecturer and researcher who was more than able to hold her own. The only slightly unusual feature of her idea, she thought smiling to herself, was that she had conceived it at work rather than her favourite place of inspiration which was when she was taking a shower in the morning.

Her mind was running at express speed as she recalled visiting HMP Nottingham when she was studying for her MA and sitting in on an English class with three inmates and the tutor and they had been surprisingly forthcoming in replying to the questions she had asked. Of course, going underground as a prisoner would need a certain amount of arrangement and she would have to think through.

It struck her that she had advantages over sighted people in a number of ways. The vaunted ideas of sighted people that non verbal communication in terms of dealing with people was, in her view, much overrated. All she had to do was to listen to nuances in the spoken voice which translated in her senses as to who was lying and who was telling the truth and, of course, it decided which women and men she was attracted to and which turned her off. It meant that this advantage was one that sighted people normally never knew even existed. Only her students found out the hard way that her blindness enabled her, in a backhanded way, to have eyes in the back of her head. In terms of what she'd face, of course she'd done her research but what started to percolate through Kristine's system is what Nikki had told her of her own experiences which had fleshed out what she might expect. it was at this point that Jules gave a little whimper as he sensed his mistress's excited mood. It was at this point that the phone rang and she cursed under her breath to have her brainwave interrupted.

"It's nice to have a social chat with you Nikki," Kristine said in deliberately polite tones though she wondered to herself why her friend was being uncharacteristically nervous and indirect. This wasn't her style. She was particularly puzzled as they'd only talked only a few weeks ago about her being guest speaker at the Howard League of Penal Reform Annual General Meeting and Nikki had been so jubilant that she'd secured her nomination through Paul.

"It's like this Kristine. I've got a big problem and I want your advice," Nikki started to say and then reeled off her problem at express speed. To Kristine's delight and awe, Nikki's dilemma so perfectly paralleled her own train of thought that she wondered that there wasn't some power out there that interwove brain patterns from apparently disconnected beings. As Nikki finally came to a halt, she felt a little embarrassed about the way she was talking. There wasn't a hope in hell that her friend could help though she would be sweetly understanding as the matter would be dear to her heart.

"You need look no further Nikki. I am the ideal person to go underground. In fact, I was dreaming up this idea all by myself and was wondering how the practicalities could be arranged. You're the obvious answer with the right connections."

Nikki froze with horror. Nightmare visions came back to her of how treacherous Larkhall was, that the narrow, dimly lit corridors reeked of danger, how the wash-rooms were the ideal place for vulnerable prisoners to be done over, to be de-crutched and her friend was asking for trouble. What made it worse was that she knew how talented Kristine was, how much she admired the other woman's independent spirit, how she got around her environment with ridiculous ease. All her instincts rang loud alarm bells that being in prison wasn't ordinary life. Down the other end of the phone, Kristine read her friend's emotions perfectly through the silence.

"You think I can't do it Nikki? I can hear you a mile away," Kristine replied softly. She knew Nikki meant well and she would have to work on her fears.

"I'm absolutely desperate to have someone working underground and you have every qualification under the sun apart from one and that's not being sighted. It really matters. You're going into a snake-pit and I'm really worried for you as I know how determined you are in getting your own way," Nikki answered with woeful concern.

That made Kristine laugh. She'd had a long track record in biting the heads off well meaning but ignorant sighted people and Nikki's understanding of her strength of purpose stopped her from being added to the list.

"All right Nikki, I have a project for you. You e mail me a list of what I'd be up against and what I'd need to cope with and we'll meet up tomorrow lunchtime. After all, I'm your last hope and you are the practical key to me setting up my project which is also yours. Is that a deal?" Kristine answered in her firmest, most encouraging tones.

It made the dark-haired woman agree despite her inclinations otherwise. Kristine smiled when she put the phone down. It wasn't the first time she'd exercised her powers of persuasion to get what she wanted.

"Paul, I'm just having a stroll round the block for lunch-break,"Nikki called out to her boss.

"Fine by me," came the casual reply. A biting cold wind was blowing down the street but he knew better than to point this out. He'd concluded very early after Nikki joined the organisation that she had her own way of doing things and being there for her when she needed his help got the best results and strengthened their relationship. He caught a glimpse of the dark-haired woman putting on a long red coat that buttoned up to her neck and small neat leather gloves and purposefully head towards the bracing elements. She knew in advance that when she'd completed her half an hour walk would have her questions for Kristine ready in her head to the lunch-break the following day and so it proved.

Paul had made two mugs of coffee ready and when he heard the familiar sound of the front door being opened, he offered one to Nikki. He noticed at once that, while the fair-haired woman looked frozen and windblown, there was a light of positivity in her eye and he was content.

Kristine smiled with appreciation when she received a fresh email from Nikki and when her screen-reader read out the contents, she knew that she'd get some tough questioning and so it proved. She had anticipated some of the questions but one or two other questions gave her cause to reflect do a little more researching.

The next day when they arranged to meet in a café that was a little off the beaten track, Nikki shook off the raindrops from her umbrella and noticed that Kristine was there in a back corner and by the looks of her, had escaped the sudden squall of rain that had dumped itself down on her. Jules tail was just visible swishing occasionally.

"Hi Kristine," she remembered to call out rather than wave at her which she came close to doing.

"I know you were going to wave at me," joked Kristine when the dark-haired woman had taken a seat, sensing the faint blush in response. "It doesn't matter. I'm pleased when I come across people who forget that I'm blind. A friend of mine who shares my taste in a particular female actress will tell me when we're watching TV together that you can tell her a mile away from her long blonde hair."

Nikki laughed freely at this ice-breaking introduction and fished out from her handbag her printed copy of the e mail she'd sent Kristine.

"You've obviously done your homework and I don't underrate your three years experience inside. I've thought about it and I know I couldn't survive without sharing a cell with a suitable prisoner who can watch out for what I can't deal with."

"It works," Nikki pointed out."I spent several months sharing a cell with Barbara Hunt and once she got over my sexuality, it meant that she wouldn't be messed with. There are plenty of women who are the school bully type and they have animal cunning to sense vulnerability. Educated women who don't appear to be able to defend themselves with their fists are particularly vulnerable."

"Nevertheless, I have my advantages," countered Kristine. "I have an advantage over sighted people that I can read inflexions in voices that tells me everything I need to know about people without them knowing. Part of the reason for this is that sighted people never develop this capacity just because they can see."

"I don't see how you can get to be on the inside of Larkhall without the prison officers knowing about it. They've got prison files with court records. If they've got anything to hide, you can bet your bottom dollar that they'll whitewash reality for the period that you're there. I ran this past Helen and that's the first thing she said," Nikki riposted.

"I have my methods Nikki and suffice it to you that I have my contacts. You'd be surprised how far they reach. Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. For a start, my researches tell me that the Principal Officer on G Wing is none other than Sylvia Hollamby," Kristine persisted, making a mental note that Nikki had done her homework all right.

"Bodybag," grinned Nikki with huge relief before continuing in more concerned tones. "That tells me that, no matter how well meaning the management, there's a rotten apple in the barrel that makes my researches worthwhile. I was at Larkhall when she misidentified Barbara Hunt who was throwing a claustrophobic fit and mixed her up with Tessa Spall, a plausible psychotic who wormed her way into Karen Betts' office and who had a dab hand in threatening Karen with a syringe of her HIV blood. The Principal Officer is right at the fulcrum of running the prison as go between the prison officers and management and controlling information going both ways. Knowledge is power as I found to my cost in my time there."

Kristine was struck by the note of lowering gloom in Nikki's voice. It spoke of a wealth of experience which she felt that Nikki was underestimating. She'd acquired a wealth of academic knowledge but it struck her that she got to know the way things were supposed to go on in prison and not what actually happened.

"What about Jules?" Nikki suddenly asked the other woman. not having thought of that one before.

"Oh that's easy. John will look after Jules. I have my way of persuading him," grinned Kristine.

This made Nikki blink. However close she and Helen had got to the man, they were both influenced by his august presence in court which they'd seen at first hand. Kristine was bisexual and that explained it, Nikki supposed to herself.

"You want to what?" John exclaimed in total surprise to Kristine after she'd come round to the digs on a mysterious errand. Jules had trotted on ahead of her in his friendly fashion and Mimi came out of nowhere to renew acquaintance. Temporarily, he could revert to being a pure canine and lay down his responsibility to guide his mistress and both of them could let the humans to their own mysterious rites and rituals. She'd come back into John's life and they'd slept together from time to time during which Mimi and Jules learnt to coexist round each other

"That's right John. It's only for two weeks and you know Jules has taken to you," Kristine replied brightly and enthusiastically.

John's first instinct was to turn pale as the implications of his friend's bold plan started to rush through his mind like an express train. He then caught sight of her and he marshalled in his mind what he thought was an irresistible sequence of irrefutable arguments.

"It's very touching of you to entrust your most dearest possession to my care but there's a problem. How are you going to get yourself into prison without the prison authorities knowing. If they do know, the most you'll get out of them is a stage managed affair which makes the idea of research pointless."

"I've got this planned out and that's my secret. Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," Kristine replied with her most winning smile. John couldn't question this one.

"All right then, don't you think it's too dangerous? I know you can get around in your life but don't you run the risk of being attacked by other prisoners? From what Nikki's told me, it's a real danger," John said softly.

"I agree with you if I were on my own but I'll be sharing a cell with a prisoner who'll be looking out for me. I've run my plan past Nikki and she'll fix it for me," answered Kristine softly. She understood John's concern for her and he was the only guy that she'd permit such solicitude.

A long silence ensued as this reply had answered all his concerns. Most unusually, he'd run out of arguments and his relationship with Kristine was such that he had to be honest. Kristine couldn't repress a slight smirk at the corners of her lips as she read John's mind.

". I'll be in contact with Nikki who's doing a follow up inspection at the end of the fortnight and I'll make my escape. It's only two weeks. I know what I'm doing, The trouble is that Jules won't know this ," Kristine answered, betraying a little uncertainty behind her air of confidence. She'd screwed up her resolve to go through with this project and this vulnerability touched him deeply. he looked to one side and saw that Jules and Mimi had settled themselves down comfortably.

Finally, John nodded his head. He couldn't let a friend down.


	16. Chapter 16

The man was spread out horizontally upon a bed much like any other underneath a blinding white light. He was dressed in pyjamas with a faint stripe in them, the jacket being neatly buttoned up to his neck, everything in order. Everything about him was middle aged, from the way he automatically pursed his lips while only the first few age lines on his face and his balding hair was cut short. Everything about him spoke of a sedentary life. The only dissonant sign was the vagueness in his eyes but this didn't matter right now.

He found his present position immensely congenial as a sensation of exhausted inertia permeated every ounce of his existence and cast a fuzzy haze around his brain that stopped him thinking too much. Only some passing stray thought politely intruded on his sense of calm that he ought to be worried about his situation and questioned how he ever got to this place but he waved it effortlessly away so the thought floated out the square sash window positioned opposite his bed.

He raised his left arm above his face and he noticed that it was ten o clock. He gazed vacantly at the circular dial with the neat numerals denoting hours and minutes and the shape of the acute angle the minute and hour hands formed. He supposed that it ought to signify something important in his life. A faint ghost memory and phantom feeling recalled that this signified some momentous marker in his daily routine but, for the life of him, he could not recall what it was.

Finally, the answer loomed above him so that the swirl of his thoughts fuzzily grasped the answer. It was time to take his morning cup of tea, offered by the faceless woman in her impersonal uniform who had always served him throughout his adult life. He found both the white mug and the tea to be institutional, rather below par and not as he was accustomed. Never mind, he thought patiently, it would have to do as he placed the solid white mug down on the side and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. He wasn't altogether what he was thinking or how he felt but enlightenment would dawn.

As he lay in his bed, a stray memory flitted past his consciousness. It was a vision of the beautiful woman with a charming voice that beguiled and attracted him out of his monastic existence. His education had been in all boys institutions and he had always been shy when he had been in the company of women. He had come to feel that they were a separate species with their own interests, their own language and culture. They were creatures that an anthropologist might profitably study but he had not got the inclination that way. A vision flitted across his memory of the morning when, resplendent in top hat and tails, he had accompanied the ruffled and veiled vision up the aisle of his local church and the moment of urgent awkwardness when they'd shared their first night together. Of course Francesca had gone on to slight that aspect of his manhood and his marriage had disintegrated so that he had ceased to dwell on that aspect of human existence and stuck to what he knew best. Of course, looking down the length of his bed, it meant nothing to him anymore.

A little while later, he had dressed himself in the open neck white shirt he favoured along with dark trousers and slippers and he had ensconced himself in the recreation room. For some reason, he avoided the solitary copy of The Times as if contact with the paper would send a jolt of pain through him while his fastidious nature made him queasy when a copy of the Sun passed his vision. Besides, he was averse to immersing himself in current affairs and picked out from the bookshelf, a light amusing novel into which he immersed himself.

"So how is our patient today?" asked the grave young psychiatrist of the sister in charge of the ward. On his glinting new teak desk lay an open hospital file, already sprouting its share of reports. At the back of the file, was the signed and sealed section order that had committed him compulsorily to their care. The accompanying report lying underneath detailed in cold, clinical fashion the way that the obsessive compulsive man had flailed away in incandescent rage in the G P's surgery room when it was first suggested to him that he needed psychiatric care. Also attached to the file were letters written by a certain L James detailing various incidents at work which had found themselves in the possession of the said GP. All in all, it was a miracle that the man had continued at work as long as he did in his dangerously disordered frame of mind when he considered his own first psychiatric evaluation reports.

"Much as usual. At least he's got over his 'stiff upper lip' complex. Of course you're the expert but it looks as if it caused him to scale the dizzy heights in the civil service and caused him to crack up. For the first few days of his admission he sorely taxed my nurse's patience."

"Take your hands off me. I've got important matters of state to attend to . You've got no business detaining me against my will," she recalled the way he had shouted red faced again and again in his proverbial stuck record fashion.

"We're both modern people," the psychiatrist replied to the sister."The trouble is that we're having to deal with unfortunate people who are martyrs to false belief systems. It might have helped our ancestors fight wars but it's no use in twenty first century Britain. My problem is working out what there is in the man that you can use to rebuild him."

Exchanging grave, meaningful glances, both professionals went on their busy way. In today's climate, there never seemed enough time in the working day to do what you wanted to.

Claire Walker could never work out why her senior partner, Jim Patterson was becoming so jumpy these days. Whatever it was, she'd be the last person he'd confide in so she didn't question him. Though she looked at her role in life in being the archetypal galley slave, her quiet efficiency was being recognised by clients who knew her well. The problem is that, over the past years, she had brought prestige to the practice she worked for and made it paradoxically more difficult to leave it. The other reason was that, immersed in work as she was, she couldn't spare the extra energy in looking for another job. all this meant that she was kept in a subservient role and she supposed that this would ever be so Right now, she was writing to her best friend Helen Stewart who she'd just heard was expecting a baby. She felt slightly guilty that they'd not kept track of each other, but their old friendship would never die.

John was seated in his armchair when creaking sounds and a heavy tread along the corridor to his chambers announced a visitor in the offing. He was oblivious as he was preoccupied by the the thought of several voluminous files perching on the corner of the desk that denoted the weighty evidence submitted for a mortgage fraud trial. More than once he asked rhetorically of Coope how could he possibly slide out of a trial that was neither his speciality nor his inclination especially as he had a couple of more urgent cases that claimed his prior attention. Coope was also hard at work and so it was that, after a brief rap on the door, the man strode purposefully into his chambers and plonked himself on the settee. A youthful clean cut man with a pink complexion, short fair hair and immaculately tailored blue suit came into view, someone who John recalled never having seen before. He followed suit more tentatively by which time John's startled and outraged senses had come to life. He couldn't believe such a crass intrusion had taken place to his privacy.

He had a pink complexion, short fair hair and immaculately tailored blue suit and was clearly the assistant.

"My lord, we wanted to pay you a courtesy call to introduce our new circuit administrator, Tim Smithson." a familiar harsh, discordant voice broke on his ears without so much as the civilised preliminaries that he was used to.

John was temporarily nonplussed by this information. As far as he knew, Lawrence James was the circuit administrator and Sir Ian Rochester's unpleasant sidekick. He hadn't seen the pair of then for quite a while and he started to suspect that changes were in the air.

"What's happened to Sir Ian?" John asked shortly. In the time taken to reply, John started to suspect the worst from the vivid memory on a wintry November's day months ago of encountering Sir Ian emotionally broken down and totally distraught. He had wanted to help the man out but he'd drifted out of his life.

"Sir Ian is on long term sick leave- couldn't take the pressure. Obviously, his position has needed to be filled and my promotion left a vacancy in my old job," Lawrence James said harshly without the slightest trace of sympathy."You will be dealing with me from now on."

"You need to observe the courtesies that Sir Ian was meticulous about," John retorted with crystal sharp consonants which drove home his displeasure. Inwardly, he was outraged by the total absence of human feeling which went far beyond what he had expected of the man. The subsequent apology from Lawrence James was only a formality.

"We apologise if we have offended you but seeing that we're here, we must talk."

"What about?" asked John in ominously quiet tones. He was ready for trouble, whatever it was.

"I see that the papers for the Crown versus Patterson mortgage fraud trial are with you. We consider that the case is not suitable for you but would be best served by Judge Jackson. He is young and enthusiastic and it is his speciality."

John saw red at once as a series of flashpoints ignited within him. First off, he flared up at the high-handed way this arrogant man was trying to bump him off a case that he held precedent to deal with.. The second conflagration centred on the fact that Judge Jackson was the son of the repellently reactionary judge that was his main antagonist when John was a practising barrister and then became a judge. Right behind this flare-up was the memory of the way he, Monty and Joseph Channing had finally swept away every trace of the life sentence he had imposed on his dear friend Nikki who had defended her former partner from being raped by a misogynist policeman. Finally, Lawrence James' arrogant command was taking a step beyond what Sir Ian had ever done in the way he'd gone head to toe with John. It struck him that the man whom he'd damned a hundred times over had a certain civility about him. By now, his rage was overpowering.

"You will have this case over my dead body," John stormed, a certain violence of manner apparent in the way he leapt up from his armchair and moved over to his desk."Get out of my chambers, the pair of you."

"We shall be back, if necessary with a court warrant," Lawrence James said loudly, his actions belying his words as he leapt up and moved defensively towards the door. The young man moved even quicker, bewildered at the turn of events. The mentoring he'd received hadn't prepared him for dealing with an irate judge whose menacing manner convinced him that he was on the point of starting a vulgar brawl.

"That showed them Coope. What do you think?" John grinned as the reverberations from the slammed door died away. He turned his head to his imperturbable PA and in her eyes, looked like a naughty boy seeking approval.

"That's not for me to say judge," Coope replied with a trace of a smile on her lips.

"Well, I'm asking you."

"We,," Coope said slowly, her smile spreading into a grin."If Monty Everard had offered to take the files off your hands, you'd have been only too grateful," she finished, casting a meaningful glance at the formidable pile of paper."

"It's the principle of the matter Coope. Besides, it will be a valuable part of Lawrence James' sidekicks education, to show him how things are really done. I might as well diversify and tackle something different," John replied in a spirited attempt to be positive."Besides, I feel sorry for Ian. It's only now I realise that I feel a remote kinship with Ian that I could never share with Lawrence James. We were at school together even if we were bitter enemies from the very start."

"I understand judge," Coope replied, slightly softening her tone of voice very slightly. She knew that her opinion mattered very much to him, something that no other judge would share with his PA."

"So just how much kindness have you got over the years?"the psychiatrist asked of Sir Ian as he lay horizontally on the couch. By now, he noted that Sir Ian found that this posture was reassuring and not threatening and he wasn't so tightly clenched into himself as was every aspect of his personality the way he was when he was first admitted to hospital. The psychiatrist was making nice progress with Sir Ian as he had ceased repeating the fussily important details of his day to day work routine as if were an official memorandum, substituting the present for the past tense to persuade himself he still belonged to the Lord Chancellor's Department. He'd actually managed to talk about the most traumatic turning point in his personal life, the first occasion when he'd found out about his wife's infidelities. This time around, he could feel the man relive his experience and feel the heart drop through the floor and shatter his very existence and not the stiffly impersonal details he'd earlier recounted like the name of the removals firm who'd taken her belongings to the flat she'd moved into.

"That's a difficult question," Sir Ian said at last after much reflection. At least the man feels relaxed enough not to feel compelled to make a quick reply, the psychiatrist thought to himself."An office isn't a place which is necessarily congenial to kindness- so much work needs doing..."he started to say in measured tones and on looking at the other man's quizzical expression, he lost his restrained composure, his habitual safety device," In fact, it's rather cold with too many ambitious people around after their own ends and concealing it with talk of the greater good- rather like remember the old school tie, whatever that means. Being packed off to boarding school really isn't a good experience for a boy but you didn't question these things at the time."

"But you know differently now," came the soft, quiet response. He knew that these encouraging words would edge Sir Ian into finally facing the reality of his life in a place where he'd be comfortably supported. So it worked out. Sir Ian plumbed down into disused parts of himself to talk about feelings he'd denied to himself. He started to see his former life as something apart from himself and how stiff-necked he'd always been as he talked freely about his life, about all the people he knew.

"Who in your life has ever meant the most to you?" asked the man in the long white doctor's gown or so Sir Ian perceived him. By now, Sir Ian felt they'd gone so far that he was duty to go through to some ill defined end. He was starting to become aware that the the next softly spoken question was going to crack open yet another brittle defence of his psyche. This was one of them. The psychiatrist saw a range of emotions silently play across Sir Ian's features before he tentatively decided to vocalise his uncertainties.

"I might have said my parents but I went to boarding school when I was very young so they were always could and remote to me. I've told you about my wife Francesca so the person I spend most time with is Lawrence James."

Sir Ian was grateful for the silence during which he contemplated the man who, most lightly has supplanted him to carry on with his own career. He knew very well that the nature of a career civil servant was being His Master's Voice. He'd done it himself so he recalled the man who zealously parroted his own ideas of working for the greater good and ensuring that the right judges with a safe pair of hands got to handle the right trials. For all their conversations, he knew the answer to the question he asked of himself and his mind's eye started to look further afield.

"No, we were never close. It was simply an association of convenience. I was on good terms with Joseph Channing until he turned against me. I know he became influenced by John Deed..."

At that point, Sir Ian stopped as a vivid image came into his mind. He pictured the man, wearing his smart blue suit but his tousled hair showed the natural man projecting through his veneer as high court judge. John's blue eyes flashed fire and he laughed openly in his own face as the feeble offer of being enabled to be a High Court judge. By contrast, he'd smiled ingratiatingly at the faceless solicitation to being taken step by step up the greasy promotion ladder. He remembered being blazingly angry at John's defiant rejection and knew now that he was really being angry with himself.

" He was the one man who laughed in my face ever since we were first at school together. He was the the one person who ever showed me any kindness when I first cracked up..." Sir Ian went on to say in stumbling tones. It was a sudden uprush of emotion that choked him off. He remembered John's incredible kindness that day when he was sitting on a park bench and threw aside old enmities to try and help him. No one had ever done that before. He knew it was wrong as big boys don't cry but he put his hands to his face and cried his heart out so much it hurt, for the small act of kindness and for all the hurts in his life he'd never allowed to conceive of as feelings.


	17. Chapter 17

As Nikki sped through the London streets in the Peugeot, her mind was racing overtime. Between them, she and Kristine had joined up the gaps in her project which had morphed into a joint enterprise. It was easier to secure the necessary paperwork than Nikki had dared hope. It amused her that she had actually come across someone with even more daring ingenuity than she herself possessed and was grateful for this worthy collaboration. Her last errand was to look up Pat Kerrigan, a prisoner in Holloway Prison who she had known to be their resident thorn in their side from the two visits she'd made, especially from her last recent call.

She'd managed to secure a workable relationship with their prison officers and management over the years and she placed more faith in their occasional grudging respect for her as they'd realised they could indirectly benefit from the sort of ideas that she and Helen had formulated over the years. At least they were upfront with her and their Principal Officer had advised her that they'd be transferring out Pat Kerrigan as she had stepped over their line once too often. As an afterthought, they'd mentioned that she'd be moving to none other than Larkhall Prison. After her talks with Kristine, she knew that this opportunity was too good an opportunity to miss. The sixty four thousand dollar question is would Pat Kerrigan cooperate with her? Nikki wondered how she would have reacted if someone like her had made a similar proposition four years ago when she was a hardened lifer, someone with reforming zeal like Helen? She had to admit she probably wouldn't. In this frenetic internal mental debate, she mouthed to herself in answer that the two situations didn't directly compare. She caught sight in her rear view mirror of an image of the sophisticated brunette dressed in her favourite black suit and cross faded in the face she saw in her prison cell mirror of her purple short-sleeved shirt, elaborate make-up and cool stare. What did this portend, she wondered. Then she realised that she hadn't really changed but had become more fulfilled and more relaxed. She had to go on, she vowed to herself as she did with everything while the yellow brick exterior walls drew closer.

Once past the barriers and bars, Nikki made her way purposefully onto the wing escorted by a young female prison officer who showed her into a private interview room, as if she were a solicitor. Even after these years of working for the Howard League, she still felt a glow of achievement in coming this far when Pat Kerrigan strolled in, an expression of hard-bitten cynicism on her face. She'd seen this posh woman a couple of times strolling round the wing who kept glancing in her direction.

"I suppose you're wondering who I am and why I've asked for you," Nikki started to say more nervously than she wanted.

"It had crossed my mind- just when I'm being ghosted out."

"I need your cooperation."

"My cooperation?" Pat echoed with a heavy sneer. Instantly this threw Nikki, assaulted by memories of when roles were reversed. She couldn't help but shake her head and smile at life's ironies. This puzzled Pat who had expected an outburst of anger.

"A few years back, I was doing life for taking out the copper who was going to rape my partner and the new wing governor said exactly the same to me to get me on side and guess what happened?"

"Surprise me," came the flat sardonic reply.

"We got together when I got out and now she's expecting our baby," Nikki said with dry wit to match anything Pat could come up with.

Pat's face was a picture of total confusion, not knowing how to get her head round this revelation.. She hadn't expected this one and she stumbled when she asked Nikki to explain who the hell she was. Nikki explained with brisk, precise details her prison experiences and how this led her to the person she now was. Pat's attention was riveted by this modest friendly woman. She believed every word that was said to her.

"You're not what you look like," Pat finally said directly.

"And what's that?" enquired Nikki with a slight smile.

"A posh do gooder. You're real. Suppose you explain now what you want me to do," she said in her direct way, leaning on her elbows which rested on the table.

Nikki rapidly explained her game plan and how Kristine fitted into the picture. When she mentioned her friend's blindness, Pat's face fell and the light went out of her eyes.

"I know Kristine. She's not stupid and she's the most unusual, resourceful independent woman I've ever known, myself included. She's a lecturer at London University."

"She'll get done over in the toilets as soon as look at you. You must know that," observed Pat gloomily.

"That's my concern also. What's going for her is that she's unbeaten in her ability to sniff out a bastard. She has a lot to offer. In her normal environment, she's learned to construct a three dimensional world and that'll take time to develop inside Larkhall. She'll certainly need a minder but you needn't think you have to do it all on your own. When you get to Larkhall, you'll find the two Julies and Denny and they're great. Trouble is that some of the screws are shits. My knowledge is now way out of date but that dump hasn't got a good reputation and some things don't change."

Nikki impressed Pat. She was talking more like a prisoner.

"You might be better smuggled inside instead of Kristine," she said in a casual off hand manner that meant real respect.

"They know me too well," laughed Nikki, feeling more relaxed as she felt that this strong minded woman was treating the idea seriously." Trouble is that I did a report on it over a year ago which ended up with my partner being charged under the Official Secrets Act. It took a couple of barrister friends to get it thrown out of court. Despite all that crap we took, I'm coming but not before Kristine's done her research or else they'll do a cover up job. I can't do it on my own like last time as I've been away from prison too long. You lose the feel of the place."

Pat's jaw hung open at the way this quiet spoken woman casually threw out this titbit of news. This was big league stuff and went way beyond being sent down the block for showing disrespect to the wing governor. Nikki's observations rung true. Her mind was definitely made up.

Just then, Nikki's mobile rang and mouthing an excuse me to Pat, she answered it. Already she was quite comfortable discussing personal business in her presence as it was Helen on the line.

"Hi darling, you've phoned at a good time as I've got through business. It's lovely to hear from you anyway."

"I just wanted to ask if you could pick up a bottle of wine vinegar on your way home as I need it for the meal I'm cooking you," sounded Helen's clear carrying voice so that Pat could hear her. Her voice had character, she decided."Glad your business went well."

"I'll tell you all about it later. Gotta go," Nikki answered with obvious affection. This little scene added a human dimension to this remarkable woman who was already giving her fresh focus and purpose to her own life.

An hour or so later, Nikki blew in from the sunny, chill March weather, bright-eyed with flushed cheeks to smell paprika pepper and chilli wafting from the kitchen. Nikki handed over the bottle which Helen secured with satisfaction. Since she'd been on maternity leave, she'd divided her attention between the baby she was expecting whose presence shaped her spatial awareness around her and Nikki's enterprises. She took a greater interest in this case thanks to past associations with her first study and sensed how it had now become twinned with Kristine's input. However, she was preoccupied with cooking the evening meal with enthusiasm and both of them knew that, at the right time, they would talk.

"Nikki, I've been thinking," Helen said slowly and carefully, running the tip of her tongue along her lower lip and her eyes darting to different places. Nikki knew the ball was in her court so she picked it up and ran with it, or so she thought of it.

"Suppose we hear you out first. My day's important but it can wait," Nikki said evenly with slow deliberate care as they sat back, taking it easy and letting their meal digest.

"These past few months have felt really strange. After years of working in one shape or another, it's nice to take things easy for a while but I know it won't last," started Helen in an uncertain fashion before . "I know that when our baby's born, it will turn our lives upside down. We have no signposts or at least that's how I feel."

"You and me both, darling. Last time around when you said something like this, I was the certain one. For a start, I want us to both bring up our baby but there's your job to consider," Nikki said in an almost throwaway manner. Her words brought a huge smile to the other woman's face. They'd never discussed the idea of her going back to work before. Her allusion to their declaration of mutual love as they held hands in the arts room at Larkhall Prison all those years ago meant that Nikki was as serious now about their future as she was then. After all, they'd lived their lives over the past few years according to her verbal sketch of being out and proud.

"I know what I'm like Nikki. I want you, I want our baby and I also want a career. Sounds impossible doesn't it?" Helen answered disconsolately.

"Then that's what I want us to aim at but let's take it a step at a time," Nikki said, placing her hands on the other woman's shoulders." This isn't a cop out,"

"You've never copped out in anything in your life," Helen said softly and admiringly, picking up on a defensive strain in her partner's voice. Nikki had the strange alluring sensation of drowning in the depths of her lover's green eyes. It made her feel safe.

"I don't want us getting freaked out by the whole deal. I want you to have a career because I remember how bored and colourless my mother was as a gin and bridge Navy wife. I've talked with my parents about this if you must know."

"And what was their answer?" asked Helen softly. She knew that her role right now was to bowl down the questions so they could get it right.

"What you might expect," Nikki laughed."They'll back us in anything we choose. They were both being perfectly sweet about it but they had more confidence in us than I felt we had."

"So we trust to their faith and we go for it," Helen concluded in the growing shadows of the half light of the setting sun outside. They raised their glasses and drank a toast to their future.

"So come on, What about your project? You know I'm interested," Helen said a little time later when Nikki had curled herself round the smaller woman as best she could.

Brightly, Nikki chattered away enthusiastically with the sentiment born in her that with everything they had planned, it couldn't fail. She was so centred in on the project that it came as a shock to her when she saw that Helen wasn't convinced. Finally, she gave judgement.

"It's very risky Nikki. I'm sure your friend Kristine is every bit as intelligent as you've explained and that Pat Kerrigan is as tough as they come. The point is that they're not Siamese twins. You know what prison's like. Things happen quickly. You can be taken by surprise."

These words crushed Nikki's bubbling enthusiasm and upset her deeply. She thought that at least her partner would show more enthusiasm and a growing feeling of resentment started to build up inside her. It was only the look of fear in Helen's eyes that accompanied her last words that killed the feeling stone dead and she searched her mind to work out where this had sprung from. Finally, light-bulb illumination connected.

"You're thinking of when Fenner sexually assaulted you. I know it," Nikki said softly. She remembered how she saw a traumatised Helen when she was in the gardens and telling her how Fenner cornered her in the PO room late one night and a full scale row had ended up with him forcing his hand between her legs and her threat to kill Fenner had come dangerously close to being realised by breaking a milk bottle. Her gentle words brought to the surface for Helen the thought which she'd half articulated. Nikki was right but did it make her conclusion wrong?

"You're right Nikki. I was thinking of that incident. I'm sorry if I came over as harsh. Your plan's great and I'm probably underestimating what Kristine is capable of. I still think your plan has something missing. You need a fail safe device. You need to give Kristine your mobile number so that if anything goes seriously wrong you can go in like the white knight on horseback earlier than you've planned. Don't forget, I've been there before. I was very single minded in moving Pam Jolley off the medical block, ignored your reservations and came close to making an arse of myself. History doesn't have to be repeated but there's no harm in taking precautions."

A huge feeling of relief swept through Nikki. Helen was right. She'd be completely wasted in being a stay at home mother, Nikki mouthed silently. Then a thought struck her.

"Won't the screws be listening in on the phones? You might know the answer to that one," Nikki queried in respectful tones. In her mind's eye, Helen was temporarily the wing governor once they'd dipped into their shared reminiscences.

"It's a risk," Helen said in considered tones."However, they aren't up to twenty four hour surveillance depending on how slack they are. You have to consider the greater risk, of Kristine being done over and trusting to her being looked after or her cover being blown."

"Then it's settled. Kristine gets her insurance and, while we're in the planning mood, we talk to Roisin about how she managed with babies," Nikki concluded and Helen beamed back at her partner. In their world, everything and everyone gets taken care of.


	18. Chapter 18

The solid stone walls of the old manse up on the far off Scottish mountains had never changed from year to year, something that its present owner gained heart from. Outside these walls, a chilly wind blasted the stonework, as it blew over the wild heathlands and ancient mountains. An ancient mahogany bookcase housed the collections of learned scriptures and lined the study wall. The central feature of the room was a stout table, standing four-square in its accustomed place and, on the bureau the opposite side of the room, a framed photograph caught the eye. An eternally middle-aged man stood, wearing his clerical suit but he couldn't maintain his customary grave expression when the little girl holding his hand illuminated everything round her. The cute little girl wore a frilly party dress and glossy brown hair, her irrepressible wide grin and glinting green eyes caught by the photographer in the studio portrait. It was a picture that was religiously dusted but all too easily overlooked these days as the years had passed.

On the table, a neatly written envelope awaited its due attention. The casual observer wouldn't know the depth of heart-searching that has gone into its composition.

"I gotta tell my father but I freeze up every time I pick up the phone. I just know that I'll get so much shit off him. I mean, he never approved of me when I got my degree, when I became the rising star of the prison service everything I've ever done in my life," Helen started gabbling at express speed as she walked backwards and forwards in the limited space of the living room.

"I can't believe it. I mean you're bright, intelligent, talented ," urged Nikki in her most soothing tones. She wanted to wrap her arms round her lover's body to comfort her but knew that Helen needed to walk her agitation out of her system somehow unless she was talked down from her wound up stress. .

"And pregnant by you. How am I able to get past that one? You've met him once so you know what he's like," added Helen in trenchant tones.

"I remember him. I admit that religious people aren't normally my scene especially but I've never come across a human being that's so unhappy with himself. He's is a real problem to talk to," Nikki answered with feeling.

"OK, so you've set out the problem. I need solutions. I've been trying to psych myself up to phone him up and failing," answered Helen, stopping dead at this point and looking out the window. She wasn't brushing off her partner but waiting to see what she'd come up with.

"He's not a typical practising Christian but a fundamentalist, "Nikki replied uncertainly.

Helen didn't reply and a tense silence built up in the room, emphasised by the way Helen kept her back to the dark-haired woman. She remembered Helen's mad impulse a few years back to drive and visit her widowed father and their modern liberal values had run smack up against her minister father's chilly unbending Presbyterian values. The only good memory of the visit was the breathtaking scenery and the chance for Nikki to understand Helen's past. The tension started to build as the silence seemed endless and Nikki knew she had to come up with more than this. Finally, words came instinctively off the top of her mind as it always did in moments of crisis.

"Getting to know Barbara Hunt's open minded version of Christianity clued me in on that one. We learned to accept and relate each other. We both knew we weren't so very different from each other," Nikki said in the most soothing tones she could conjure up. As she spoke, fond reminiscences of Nikki's close friend in Larkhall Prison floated through her mind, their heart to heart talk about soul-mates still managing to warm her heart after these years

"OK the trouble is that my father is different from all of us. I wonder if I was some kind of immaculate conception the way we're so different. Nice try Nikki but this doesn't get us any further," Helen replied tersely.. Inwardly, Nikki's words prompted Helen to remember well the middle aged practising Christian woman who had shared a cell with Nikki who finally became their one secret supporter of their budding relationship. The way the taller woman took her emotional freakout seriously did the trick in steadying Helen emotionally so the vein of humour in her reply wasn't lost on Nikki as Helen was implying that she still had faith in her partner to turn up an answer.

"Why not write to him and give him a chance to think things over. OK, it means we might be worrying how he'll react but it discharges our duty. At the end of the day, we might as well be hanged for a sheep as well as for a lamb. I'll also help you write the letter if you want," Nikki urged.

There it was, right out in the open and Helen visibly relaxed at the solution. She waited for her lover to wrap her in her arms from behind. Sure enough Nikki never let her down. She lay back into her lover's sure strength and especially the way that she stroked her breasts and affectionately ran her hands around her swelling stomach. Both women murmured with satisfaction. This was one of the postures when they could feel at their best.

"OK, let's get down to business. I've come up with 'Dear father' so that's a start," Helen said cheerily as she sat at the dining table with an A4 sized writing pad, turning her head to look at her partner with a wicked grin.

"I suppose I'm expected to come up with blinding inspiration. I did ask for it," Nikki replied softly with rueful amusement.'OK what about this."I know you're always busy with your parishioners and so have Nikki and I so I thought I'd try and catch up with each other.' That sounds pretty diplomatic, especially by my standards."

"Hmmn," Helen thought as she rested the Biro end just inside the corner of her mouth and wrote out the words."That's not a bad opening line. You know that will sooth my father's overdeveloped sense of guilt. You've seen how weird that makes him."

"'I know you neither approve of my sexuality nor of my relationship with Nikki but this is my life right now', " spoke Helen with grim determination as she wrote forcefully on the notepad. she turned her head to intercept a doubtful look from Nikki."You disagree?"

"We're going to sock it to your father that you're going to be a mother thanks to IVF, something he thinks of as modern witchcraft and you're stirring the shit already?" questioned Nikki.

for a moment, Helen compressed her lips in anger and her eyes flashed fire. Her cooler headed, analytical self couldn't help but envision the letter as a whole and she realised her mistake.

"OK, I'm being too defensive about us. I, I mean we, ought to act so the way we live is perfectly natural."

"That's more like it. Accentuate the positive," Nikki said with crisp assurance. Helen suspected that this phrase was secretly stolen from Nikki's father and she smiled affectionately at the thought. A rush of ideas surged into Helen's head as she scribbled for all she was worth.

"It shouldn't be a great surprise to you that our commitment to each other is for the long run. We've thought long and hard about about starting a family and we're glad to tell you that our baby is due to be born on March 15th, God willing. We haven't written before this for fear of tempting fate. Nikki's parents have also been told and, naturally, they're pleased for us. I know that London is a long way down but we'd love you to come down for the birth.

Your loving daughter Helen."

"What do you think, Nikki?" Helen beamed, relieved that the words had spilled out of her brain from nowhere. Nikki looked closely at the wording and pondered awhile.

"I wonder if we need to justify writing so late to your father," Nikki said thoughtfully. "The real reason we delayed was because of his bigoted attitude. We can't say that so why not leave it out altogether. Other than that, it's great."

Helen realised that residual defensiveness lay behind her wording so she drew a line through the sentence.

"Anything else?"

"We must phone my dad and get his agreement on what we're saying about him. He'll talk to mum and they'll have a united front on this. Taking his name in vain is a surefire way of him going off at the deep end. We know he'll back us up and tell your father to his face if need be."

"Sounds like you Nikki," Helen grinned, feeling their distant strength around them.

"More than I ever realised years ago when we fought like crazy as we're frighteningly similar," Nikki answered with a fond smile. As Helen reached for her letter writing pad, the phone rang and Nikki noticed the phone number with a satisfied grin. The timing was immaculate.

The Reverent Stewart passed by the table and the letter caught his eye. He immediately recognised his daughter's regular script and it jangled his nerves straightaway. It ripped away at the carefully sealed over wounds of the sorry nature of his daughter's present existence after so many hopes had been invested in her. He's spent all the years when she'd been at home guiding her footsteps just as he'd done for so many of the community as he knew the path of life was a crooked trail where it was so easy to put a foot wrong. He'd born the trials of with the tragic loss of his wife with his native fortitude so that the least he might expect was obedience. Instead, he'd bullheadedly insisted on making completely different choices. Instead of making a suitable marriage within the community much as he had done, she chose one unsuitable young man after another and went off to university against his wishes. He realised too late that she would pick up modern ideas and be lured to the sinful bright lights and wicked ways of London to try and become a prison governor of all things. The next he heard was that she'd been living in sin with a landscape gardener and was engaged to him. The next thing he knew, she'd cast aside the man, left her career in the prison service which he'd just about come to accept and, horror of horrors, taken up with another woman in an unnatural, ungodly existence, a convicted criminal of all people. He'd had to endure a visit by the pair of them a couple of years ago, an event he remembered well. He thought he'd restrained his righteous anger fairly well and he remembered Ms Wade, a

smooth talking woman. Truly, the devil appears in plausible guises though this hadn't stopped the woman from arguing with him under his own roof. He'd made sure the two women were forced to sleep in separate bedrooms but that was his sole consolation.

All that upset was a couple of years ago and he thought he'd just about erased the memory of their godless intrusion into his life when this letter appeared from out of the blue. He could just about handle exchanging Christmas cards as the dark shadow it cast on his life could be overcome by sheer willpower. This instinct to mould himself had dominated everything in his life. This letter scared him, truth to tell.

As he ripped open the letter and read its brief contents, its wilfulness nearly caused him to have a heart attack. this was utterly beyond the pale, totally monstrous, beyond anything God could possibly forgive, beyond anything he could possibly conceive of. he paced around in a perfect frenzy of madness and it took him a long time to calm down.

It was only as he lay back in an easy chair that he started to conceive of a strategy as to how to deal with the situation as he had always been able to organise practical affairs. Out of the mists of nowhere, his fevered mind recalled a throwaway line by Ms Wade that gave him a clue.

"As the daughter of a Naval Captain growing up around London, this is an entirely different world for me."

He started to think that he might talk to Ms Wade's parents as possible allies to get on side as he couldn't conceive that they'd actually approve of the situation. A glow of righteous inspiration dawned upon him so that he reached for a recent acquisition, a laptop computer. with this device, it was not beyond his tenacity to track down the whereabouts of a certain Mr and Mrs Wade.

The object of the Reverend Stewart's searches looked contentedly into the back garden on a sunny spring morning. He loved the sight of the trees starting to bud and daffodils and crocuses as signs of a new year. He and his wife had that comfortable, warm feeling that life felt complete and settled as he now had the leisure time to enjoy the fruits of his hard work. The idea of being a prospective grandfather once again gave him especial joy, thanks to his bright and talented daughter and her loveable partner. They were within easy phone's reach or visit and their conversation sparkled with wit, intelligence and warmth. His son John was another matter as Nicola's reentry into their world had put his nose out of joint. Still, he could handle that side of the family and he ought to value their dull unstimulating reliability. Very recently, Nicola had had the good sense to consult him about a letter that Helen proposed to send to her father. They could hardly delay matters further but he had readily sympathised with their reluctance to communicate with a paid up member of the God squad, a type he had never had any time for. He considered that Helen had turned out remarkably warm hearted and sensible given such an unfavourable background. While he had reassured them that they had done right, some instinct told him that there was trouble in the offing. Still, he didn't want that to spoil the splendours of a lovely spring day.

When Mr Wade answered the phone and a strong male Scottish voice sounded in his ear, it clued him in as to what was in store for him.

"Mr Wade, you'll probably know of me as Helen Stewart's father, the Reverend Stewart. I thought it's about time as we of the older generation got to know each other better."

"Indeed," Mr Wade said non committally, thinking that was the biggest load of old religious flannel he'd heard in a long time. He thought he'd offer a decent length of rope with which to hang himself. "You'll probably know that a lifetime spent in the Navy makes for a sense of tradition."

"So you'll understand my concern over my daughter's well being and that you being on the spot will be able to help each other out."

"My wife and I feel that we're very lucky as, the older Nicola has become, the more we find we have in common and may I congratulate you, sir, for your upbringing. Helen is very congenial company," Mr Wade said, a mischievous look in his eye as he heard the other man's baffled silence. This wasn't running according to script. His wife smiled tolerantly at these goings on.

"You may not be aware of the latest developments but my daughter is pregnant she and your daughter are planning to start a family together. that cannot be right as their relationship and is certain to bring shame and ridicule on their offspring. I am sure that you can hardly approve of this predicament. As a church minister, this is completely beyond the pale to me and the community she grew up in. The community her family came from is God-fearing and doesn't bow to fads and fashions."

Mr Wade couldn't deny a few qualms about the future that this man unreeled but vowed to be resolute, especially when a note of frustration broke through. He thought of his daughter, of Helen Stewart and how he'd changed over the years and saw all. The words were easy to frame.

"Look here, Reverend, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I'll respect your values so long as you respect mine. When Nicola made her lifestyle choice in her teens, it caused ructions in my family and too many lost years. we only got over that one by some growing up by all sides and sitting down and talking to mend broken fences. Nicola hasn't had an easy life but she's worked hard and earned our respect ten times over and we took to Helen as soon as we first knew her. We know they were made to be a couple. Between you and me, this talk of IVF is so much alphabet soup and we haven't the foggiest idea how they're having a baby together. The point is that we trust their good judgement that they know what they're doing and we're here to generally rally round. Sorry but that's the way it is," he said in firm tones, exchanging glances with his wife who left him to do the tough talking as he was best at it.

"Then there's no more to be said," the Reverend Stewart said abruptly, slamming the phone down in a state of fury. Mr Wade grinned with satisfaction and wasted no time in phoning their daughter. They're like two peas in a pod, his wife thought fondly.


	19. Chapter 19

This wintry time of the year marked a moment when some were moving ahead with their lives, others were facing life's battles head on and others were puzzled as to how to next proceed. It all added up to the small heroisms in which these ordinary women and men met life's challenges.

In Alice's case, what weighed heaviest on her was to absorb the punishment meted out by the steady march of days moving forward as to when the trial would take place. Right in front of her eyes stood the implacable immensity of the image of the huge square edifice that blotted out the sky and her nerve endings gave her no peace. The worst of it was that she'd seen the inside of the building before but she'd been with the rest of the gang in the safety of the visitor's gallery, mentally cheering on her friends as they'd stood trial or had given evidence in support. Being up on high in a place of safety was one thing. Taking the stand in that cramped confined wooden box was quite another matter. The more time went on, the more isolated she felt which was why George made her intervention the night before the trial, after much private thought.

"What help do you want of me? I know you're worried," the blond haired woman asked when they lay together on the sofa and Alice was at her most white faced and silently anxious.

"I know you're not keen on Becky Elliott. You've no reason to be. Besides, I know how busy you are," Alice responded softly with downcast eyes. She'd been racking her brains as to how to phrase her words knowing that George's natural sympathy for her troubles might be tempered by the vexed question of her ex. This question got to the crux of all her fears that swirled around her.

"I'll be frank, darling. Saving Becky Elliott's skin is not my concern. What you'll go through when you give evidence is as much my concern as is anything else in your life," pronounced George, fixing Alice with her blue eyes. The other woman knew that George was being scrupulously honest- with herself as with Alice and reached out for George's left hand to hold. That was answer enough.

"What about the forces of reaction?" Alice asked, looking directly at George.

"I'd thought long and hard about what you said the other day and I don't see why merely appearing in the gallery while you give evidence in court will give the establishment a stick to beat me with. My very existence as a renegade is enough of an affront to them. Being an out lesbian is the icing on the cake as well so there's no reason for me to be paranoid about them," George laughed, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Alice kissed George softly on her lips in gratitude.

"That being said, I've looked at what I've got for tomorrow. If I had the time to spare, I'd sit in the visitor's gallery while you're giving evidence but I haven't . I have a trial that cuts across it. I've checked with all our friends and they are frightfully busy right now with one exception. If it's all right with you, Helen Stewart is ready and willing to keep you company. Will that do?" George continued briskly.

"That's totally brilliant," exclaimed Alice An image of Helen's cheery personality and positive attitude came to mind and she knew that the Scot had been through the mill in terms of court cases including one where the establishment had vengefully prosecuted her under the Official Secrets Act in connection with Nikki's expose of Larkhall Prison and had given as good as she'd got."I would love that if it's no trouble."

"Between you and me," explained George with her confiding grin,"Helen is getting bored with being on maternity leave and fancies a challenge. Do you want to phone her or do you want me to?"

"You do it," Alice responded immediately with deep feeling. George grinned, knowing that Alice had the sense for as much to be taken off her shoulders as was possible.

"I'll be there with pleasure. The Old Bailey has nothing now to frighten me with so this outing will do me good as well as you," Helen decided immediately. She was reassuring Alice that her most recent experience of being dragged into court on a charge of breach of the Official Secrets Act was history, chronologically and emotionally.

"That's really kind of you, Helen," Alice said with heartfelt gratitude. To Helen's sharp ears, it sounded that her friend's worst nightmare of being abandoned to her fate wasn't going to happen.

"So what time do we get there and how do we meet up?" Helen continued in her cheery tones, clicking into organisation mode. Nikki had pricked up her ears and clearly approving of her partner's project. Nikki was conscious that Helen was getting bored waiting for the birth of their child and needed an outlet.

"I'll pick you up three quarters of an hour before we're due in at court. That'll be enough time to get across London and find a parking spot," Alice said in more businesslike terms. Thus it was that she snuggled down at night with George at her side, feeling more at ease with herself. She knew that this was what she wanted most, knowing what her friends had gone before her at previous trials.

"Wake up darling," a soft, gentle perfectly articulated voice swam from out of nowhere into the churning dark dreamlike shapes in Alice's mind. She couldn't figure out how this disembodied voice correlated with the miasma of dark worries but then it repeated itself with gentle insistance. finally, Alice rubbed her eyes open and shards of daylight greeted her. She found herself in a twisted posture and concluded that she'd given her lover a disturbed night.

"It doesn't matter," George said soothingly as she swam into focus, fastening her best white shirt."I'll make us a cup of black coffee so you'll be ready."

These words were the gentle nudge Alice needed to get up and face the day.

Presently, Alice fetched up outside Helen's flat, dressed in her own best white blouse, dark jacket and respectable length skirt that she'd laid out the night before. She knocked at the stout wooden door.

"Coming," hailed a clarion voice through the door. Presently, Helen came into view, wearing a loose fitting coat and maternity smock under which her advanced state of pregnancy was clearly visible. She grinned at Alice's obvious alarmed expression.

"Hey, don't worry Alice. We've been promised that our baby's not due for a fortnight so I can squeeze in your court appearance no problems," Helen exclaimed in best female executive manner.

"You don't think she'll appear prematurely?" questioned a nervous Alice, vaguely recalling incidents occurring in her professional life.

"Just relax Alice. I know what I'm doing," Helen said with all the sublime confidence in the world. Alice turned to the passenger seat to adjust it to Helen's needs and trusted to her judgement. She had to place her faith on what she could rely on, she thought ruefully to herself.

"Hi Roisin," Helen called out to a tall dark-haired woman emerging from her doorway with a little boy clinging to her."Don't normally see you at this time of day."

"Michael has been stricken down by a mysterious illness not known to man nor beast," Roisin answered in her vibrant Irish brogue."I'm having time off work to sort it out."

"Alice Swinburne is a friend of mine who's due in court as a witness in a stabbing case. I'm providing moral support. It gives me a project I can get my teeth into. Best of luck at the doctor's- it gives me an idea what's in store for me," Helen said, grinning broadly.

With a friendly goodbye, Roisin turned to take her unwilling offspring in the direction of her own car, the wind blowing her hair into her eyes. Alice and Helen settled down to prepare for their own journey. Helen lay back comfortably and chatted inconsequentially about her neighbour who seemed to Alice to be a perfectly conventional, amiable woman. This all changed when the conversation drifted in their direction.

"With our baby on the way, we're lucky to have neighbours we can learn from in the way they interact with their children and with each other. We're open for practical tips as well."

"Roisin looks like the maternal type," Alice replied absent mindedly as her attention was taken by the rush hour traffic.

"She and her partner Cassie go together like Nikki and I do and they're both great with their children," Helen said reflectively.

Apart from making Alice almost swerve into the car next to her, it raised the level of possibilities the world offered and buoyed her spirits in a curious way that Helen's sharp senses could feel. She had hoped that, in a circuitous way, it would lift her friend's spirits so she'd be best placed to face taking the stand. Sure enough, the mood felt right as they parked and made their way to their destination and even when the grey edifice of the Old Bailey came to overshadow them.

"Back again?" grinned the middle-aged female usher at Helen as they made their way into the foyer with Alice and going on to give helpful advice."I would have thought you'd put your feet up and let your partner do all the running about. I remember having my first and making the most of being waited on for a change- at least for nine months."

"My friend Alice Swinburne is here to check in as a witness for the Rebecca Elliott trial," Helen replied cheerfully, sensing that her friend was only happy for Helen to take charge of everything. "Nikki knows what I'm like and besides, I'm the one person with time on my hands so here I am again."

"Your solicitor's waiting for you in the private interview room at the end. Good luck," the usher offered kindly.

Helen had a curious feeling of untouchability as she made her way along the corridor, conscious that Alice was carrying a heavier burden than she was right now. It was only when she entered the room that the cheerful smile was suddenly replaced by a stony glare when she saw the man behind the table.

"John Wade," she exclaimed to the man in the smart blue suit and bearing an unfortunate superficial resemblance to her best friend and lover. The problem with him was that everything in his physical manner and personality conveyed his failed attempt to be the masterful and dominant personality that he aspired to be whereas Nikki managed it with ease. Nevertheless, she recovered quickly from the shock as Alice's needs to be prepared to be cross examined overrode her personal antagonism."So you're the instructing solicitor."

"I'm in charge here Ms Stewart," the man said with stiff authority," I give the instructions to your barrister Brian Cantwell. I have the professional qualifications and you haven't."

With an enormous effort, Helen reined in her natural instinct to let fly. She knew very well that this man's mixture of incompetence and vanity had led Brian Cantwell up the garden path, first in prosecuting Karen Betts and then herself. A contrary voice of reason urged the paramount importance of Alice not being beset by conflicting advice from all sides on the very eve of the trial. Nevertheless, she couldn't help burning with repressed contempt at this man's weak reliance on his official position, something she knew that Nikki was constitutionally incapable of doing.

"You know each other?" Alice asked surprised.

"Have it your own way, John. It's Alice's welfare that matters most," Helen replied sullenly, mouthing a 'Tell you later' to Alice under her breath.

"Exactly so," pursued a smugly complacent John Wade, sitting back in his chair. He was deluding himself into thinking he'd put one over Ms Stewart, her sister's wicked accomplice."I'm giving you some sound advice and rule number one is on no account can you afford to look stupid in court. I suggest you tell the court that you took on Ms Elliott's mother as a client, knowing her relationship to your ex partner. You thought you could handle the situation only the old bat went unaccountably ga ga so you weren't to blame. Forget feeling guilty about dumping on your client. The best way to defend our client is to ensure she doesn't lose out one way or another..."

Instantly, Alice felt Helen's sense of alarm amplify her own panic at the thought of lying under oath which resonated through her system. As John Wade continued with his stream of cynical platitudes, all the pieces of her jigsaw finally came together in terms of what had happened that night, why and when. Just when the man turned to take his place as hanger on to Brian Cantwell, Helen hissed "Tell the truth Alice" into her ear and pressed her hand softly. This last gesture of feminine connectivity did the trick as Alice knew at last what she must do and felt the power to achieve it. she exchanged a brief smile with Helen as they departed the room to part ways to go to their respective places. All the time, John Wade had that comfortable feeling of assurance that he was in control of events, the go between client and barrister, Mr Fixit.

Alice tentatively entered the courtroom when the usher indicated, stopped briefly on seeing Becky Elliott looking lost and abandoned in her place in the dock. No no no, she said under her breath. That was then and this is now, blocking off any possibility of that treacherous thought that might betray her and George. Let's not go there she thought. She averted her gaze from her ex partner and swore to herself that she would do precisely as the words on the oath that she read out to the court in her best professional manner so that justice could be done and she could go back to George that evening. She avoided looking at Neumann Mason-Alan, took in Brian Cantwell's professionally reassuring smile and took heart at the obvious look of recognition from Monty Everard who also couldn't repress a smile at Helen Stewart's irresistible charm as she sat in the front row of the visitor's gallery. As Alice stood at last in the witness stand, she took in the full sweep of the emotional journey she had travelled to face this moment and now she felt good and ready for it .


	20. Chapter 20

Alice gingerly took the purple bound Bible in one hand and the cardboard words to the oath in the other and intoned the phrases, much as she'd seen her friends do so in the past. This gave her a breathing space to let her gaze travel to Brian Cantwell who was standing ready, complete with his sheaf of legal papers, black gown and crisp white wig on his head.

With comfortable ease, he led Alice into the preliminary questions concerning her identity and her profession and she wrapped this thin cloak protectively around herself. She glanced up at the gallery and Helen's warm smile of friendship boosted her spirits. This enabled her to ready herself for the first critical turning point in her testimony.

"So Ms Swinburne, what is your current relationship status and perhaps you can elaborate on it?" pursued Brian Cantwell, cutting to the chase. For a moment, everything in Alice's system froze solid and shrank from telling the simple truth when she was surrounded by the threateningly imposing architecture of tradition complete with seventeenth century gowns and wigs. George's firm voice and determined stare swam as a vision before her eyes, commanding her to tell it like it is.

"After all, it's an open secret in circles I move in, the brethren, the judges and word has got around my clients and all they want is a barrister who has commitment, who can deliver. Besides, Nikki and Helen have done wonders as our ambassadors so the forces of progress has encroached into the cloistered walls I move in. So don't you dare to be coy and apologetic and besides, you lay yourself open to be tied in knots by even Neumann Mason-Alan when I know you'll get the better of him. Brian Cantwell knows all about this and is waiting for you to be out and proud."

"Ms Swinburne, can you reply to your counsel's question?" Monty Everard said, not unkindly despite his gruff manner. Alice picked up on his underlying good will and sharpened up her act.

"Oh yes, I'm in a long term lesbian relationship with Georgia Channing, a well-known barrister who has appeared here before now."

"And when approximately did you first meet Georgia Channing?"

"I can say exactly. It was on Wednesday August 3rd 2001 when we first laid eyes on each other at a club called Chix. It was love at first sight," Alice said happily, delighted for all her years of being an out lesbian that the ceiling didn't fall in on her for testifying to her sexuality for all to hear. Her highly attuned senses were vaguely surprised to see the jury take this in their stride till it crossed her mind that this aspect of human existence threaded its way right through the trial.

"Of the two women at the heart of this trial, who did you first get to know and when?" Brian Cantwell asked with crisp precision. Up there on the throne, Monty Everard had been interested to see how this man would fare when he wasn't working as an agent of the establishment and, to date, he had turned in a creditable performance.

"Becky Elliott of course," Alice said automatically, colouring slightly as she spoke, something Neumann Mason-Alan noted as he waited in the wings. Alice let her eyes glaze over and not focus on anything as she spoke, certainly not at Becky. "For once in my life, she intruded into my professional life something that has never happened before in my life."

"Perhaps, Ms Swinburne, it would assist the court if you care to explain briefly the work you do, the clientèle you engage with," Monty Everard interjected, to avoid the line questioning becoming hopelessly obfuscated and pinching a line out of John Deed's book.

"Of course, of course my lord. Various agencies like health visitors, doctors and so on refer both families and individuals who have problems that the one agency can't solve on their own, from single mothers to old age pensioners with problems ranging from debt, mental health, domestic abuse, schooling problems for children affected so that, whatever my private life, I have had to turn my hand to dealing with areas of life that I am not familiar with and learn from specialists who have that knowledge. It doesn't always end with happy endings but I can at least say to myself that I have tried," Alice said with genuine enthusiasm and conviction.

"So how do you keep your professional life separate from your personal life?" Brian Cantwell pursued, eager to head off a potential line of attack.

"My professional life includes fellow professionals in related fields to mine who I don't see out of work and my clients whom I've described while my circle of friends are all thirty-something lesbians I meet at Chix nightclub who are all happily single or in committed relationships and are all pretty well adjusted," Alice said in smooth convincing tones.

"So what went wrong on this occasion?" asked Brian with more delicacy in tone than he normally displayed.

"Becky Elliott was the friend of a depressive single parent I was counselling," Alice said in bleak tones, hardly daring to look around as her personal and professional embarrassment was extreme. In broken phrases, she explained how immediately comfortable she was in the presence of this sprightly and helpful woman who also kept the children entertained and, towards the end of her sessions, she casually suggested meeting up with Alice separately over a coffee. In that fatal moment of weakness, Alice had slipped into an affair with Becky Elliott as she was really impressed and charmed by her and thought they had something in common. Because she really cared for her, that was how she was drawn in. By the time she realised that she realised she had a clinical bipolar condition, it was too late. It took her the six months of their affair when she realised that she couldn't be helped with her condition and with the greatest difficulty, she extricated herself.

"So during the six months of your association with the accused, did you ever meet the accused's mother and, if so, what was the nature of your acquaintance?"

"I never met her until she first became my client a long time later. My experience of fellow lesbians of my age-group is that we often have fractured relationships with our parents for not turning out the way they wanted us to. It might be the case that not having children preserves our distance from our families, certainly in my case. All I ever heard was what Becky told me of her, that she was this manipulative, evil monster who'd messed up her life for her. I had no reason to believe differently."

For the first time, Alice's steady gaze met Becky's and the other woman dropped her gaze. Helen heard and saw all from her place in the balcony and felt the emotional truth resonate from her friend. Alice was putting up a pretty good show. She was worried for her when Neumann Mason-Alan came to cross examine her as Alice's firmness of purpose in the face of adversity wasn't as strong as she needed. What felt curious to her was that Brian Cantwell was doing a much more competent job than normal. She felt the kick of her baby inside her from time to time but this was a rhythm of her body she'd become used to by now.

"So when Mrs Elliott, the accused's mother was first referred to you as a client, did you put two and two together as a professional social worker of long standing and realise that this new client was your former partner's mother?" Brian Cantwell asked with a satisfied smile, thinking that he knew in advance what the answer was.

"I regret to say I didn't. The penny only dropped when Becky Elliott appeared at her mother's house, the day I was there and the stabbing occurred."

A sudden chill hush swept over the court as Alice's response had taken nearly everyone aback. Monty Everard jerked slightly back in his chair and blinked. Neumann Mason-Alan's mouth hung open though the first suspicions of a promising line of question started forming itself at the back of his mind. John wade saw the way the land lay and hung his head just in time to avoid Brian Cantwell's murderous glare. Only Helen, who knew the truth and felt the way forward on this one, smiled delightedly at a rather crestfallen Alice. Brian Cantwell did his best to collect his scattered wits and his next question was addressed as much to himself as well; as to the court.

"Ms Swinburne, it might seem odd that such a professional such as yourself could fail to make the obvious connection. Could you explain for the benefit of the court just why on earth this happened?" he said rather waspishly.

"Mr Cantwell, are you intending to treat your witness as hostile?" interjected Monty Everard pointedly.

"No, of course not. I'm merely trying to get to the bottom of the matter for the court's benefit," Brian Cantwell said, a little sullenly.

"Then pray continue, Ms Swinburne," Monty Everard said, leaving a judicious pause for the witness to collect her wits.

"I should have put two and two together but I didn't," confessed Alice frankly."One reason is that my work involves me with a lot of clients and their associates. The real reason is that it's like spotting a London double decker going down a country lane. The name from my professional life was completely separated from the descriptions I'd been given in my personal life by my former partner. All I can say is that I'm human- I dare say some of the people in the court have made mistakes,"Alice answered, becoming flustered as she finally came to the point.

"Indeed, that's interesting" Brian Cantwell said with some satisfaction. He was sharp-witted enough to change his game plan completely once he'd seen that it suited his purposes better. "So what your feelings when, unknown to you, the accused entered your client's room?"

"Total shock and horror," replied Alice with crisp assurance."I was pretty sure that Mrs Elliott, the accused's mother, had set it up for her daughter to come round while I was there to work as much mischief as she could. What other explanation could there possibly have been? It meant that I was far less able to deal with the situation to cool things down so that she could carry on her private war with her daughter. Once one of them picked up a knife, someone was going to get hurt."

"Thank you, Ms Swinburne for your useful evidence," Brian Cantwell said with calm assurance. He had got to where he wanted.

Neumann Mason-Alan wasted no time in attacking the witness on the most obvious point of attack as he jumped to his feet.

"Ms Swinburne, let me see if I've got things straight. Isn't it the case that as a professional with many years experience, you have a better than average recall for names and faces in different contexts, what is said in conversation and so forth?"

"Normally yes," Alice said.

"So isn't it either the case that you did remember Mrs Elliott's name as the mother of an ex-partner with whom at one time you had a particularly intense relationship or else you would have been extraordinarily stupid?" Neumann Mason-Alan shot back with theatrically exaggerated disbelief.

There was a moment's pause. In Brian Cantwell's mind, this was make or break time. Far up in the gallery, away from the heat of the trial, Helen silently urged, go on Alice, you can say it.

"It was an extraordinarily stupid lapse of memory, one which caused me to be officially reprimanded at work. My only possible explanation to myself, let alone the court was that I had been doing my best to forget that Becky Elliott ever existed. Such mental aberrations happen in real life."

This reply took the wind out of Neumann Mason-Alan's sails. His mouth remained open and his slightly crouched bodily posture remained frozen. Up on the throne, Monty Everard knew beyond doubt that Alice had come over as totally convincing. Brian Cantwell did a little mental jump for joy. After that opening sally, Neumann Mason-Alan had no chance of getting back into the game and Alice easily fended off the man's clumsily probing questions.

"Do you wish to re-examine your witness?" Monty Everard asked of Brian Cantwell.

"I have one question to ask of you Ms Swinburne," the man asked in easy relaxed tones with a ghost of a smile on his face. He had gained respect for this woman who had delivered the truth for him in an extraordinary fashion irrespective of further witnesses.."Irrespective of blame or guilt, in your unbiased opinion was there any chance of either the accused or her mother escaping injury once one of them had picked up the knife?"

"Not a chance," Alice Swinburne said with absolute certainty, looking steadily at her former lover who now had not a shred of influence over her."The two women had been locked in such intense feelings of hatred for decades that, if one of them had sought peace, she would have been afraid of being knifed by the other. It might so easily have been Mrs Elliott stabbing Becky Elliott. No one could have come between such inevitable destiny, certainly not me."

"There you have it. No more questions," Brian Cantwell said with great satisfaction.

"Ms Swinburne, you may stand down. This is a good point to adjourn till after lunch. Court is dismissed," pronounced Monty Everard at the same time that Becky Elliott gave Alice a glance of respect and thanks. As Alice moved away from the stand, her legs felt wobbly and her mouth was dry. It had been such a long time since she'd been on the stand and she had come through her nightmare intact.

Alice made her way out of court on rubbery legs when she was plunged into the hurly-burly of the foyer. Suddenly, Brian Cantwell appeared out of nowhere and shook her hand warmly before smilingly indicated that he had further work elsewhere. Out of the corner of his eye, he had spotted Peter Walker who smiled at him with grim satisfaction. His firm, Ravenscroft and Walker had been originally assigned the case until some string pulling had pushed him off the case in favour of the corporate practice for whom John Wade worked for. At the precise time that an angry, sulky John Wade appeared, he received the full force of Helen Stewart's murderous glare when she'd turned the bottom of the staircase. He hurried off like a scared little boy.

"Well done," Helen breathed, hugging Alice as best she could manage."Your chauffeur awaits you unless you want to see more."

The two women threaded their way through the crowd of people, spirits as light as a feather and hit the fresh winter air the other side of the double doors. It made Helen shiver and complain.

"Not me Helen," Alice called out vivaciously."Haven't you forgotten how good the fresh air of freedom feels?"

"Of course Nikki and I remember," the smaller woman answered, suitably corrected. In retrospect, she'd found sitting in the gallery a pleasant exercise in nostalgia for more turbulent, hair raising days of fight and struggle.

Alice felt comfortable and looked after speeding around London, Helen at the wheel to take her back home. It crossed the other woman's mind to wonder if Alice was due back at work and threw it out as a casual aside as she drove.

"I've been given the half day off work even though my court appearance has finished early. All's well back at the ranch," Alice said calmly when she'd finished her call. In the meantime, the swish swishing of the windscreen wipers made for a calming sensation. Inside Helen's car, everything was cosy and safe and would remain so once she'd got back home and phoned up George on her lunch break to tell her the good news.


	21. Chapter 21

George had done her best to appear positive when she went off for work, leaving Helen to give her a lift but two seconds after driving off for the exact same destination, the Old Bailey, for her own court case, she found her attention wandering. This was so much so that during her cross examination of her witness in a case where John presided, she knew she'd talked herself into a verbal tangle. Finally, she stopped and looked up at John with her big blue eyes.

"My lord, a matter has arisen with which I wish to confer with my client. Might I have a fifteen minute adjournment and then I'm confident I can proceed."

"By all means," John said imperturbably to the barrister who had been cringing with embarrassment at her lame excuse. George shot him a grateful look and gestured forcefully to the puzzled man in the dock and passed by the bumbling opposing barrister who fortunately missed the sub-context. The phrases by which she pretended to broach an abstruse point of law were already framing themselves in her mind to pretend her way through the discussion that would get her head straight.

By the time the hearing was adjourned for lunch, George exerted an immense effort of will to resist the temptation to check on the progress of the Becky Elliott trial that was taking place in another portion of the bowels of the Old Bailey. Virtue had its own reward when George was about ready when Monty Everard appeared in her doorway, smiling benevolently at her.

"I thought I'd let you know that Alice acquitted herself splendidly after a nervous start. I think her final contribution has swung the trial if I'm not mistaken. Of course she's up to the high standards set by the ladies from Chix," Monty declaimed in high spirits, beaming all over his face.

In a moment, all the concealed tension within George was released in one exhalation of pent up breath. Short of hearing from her lover's own lips, this was the best, most trusted information she could possibly receive.

"Thank you Monty," George said softly, a grateful smile on her lips. It made all the difference to her day and had a curious calming effect on her and focussed her mind marvellously.

The opposing barrister had never come across George before so he could never work out why George's command of her case started out surprisingly uncertain and not making the best of her case. The adjournment saw George ratchet up her performance considerably and, after the lunch break, performed with the deadliness of a fencing virtuoso and was all over him. When the verdict was delivered in her favour, she dusted off her hands and grinned broadly. Right at the end, she shot off mysteriously without indulging in the customary pleasantries.

Half an hour later, George had zoomed back home in record time, opening the front door with slightly trembling fingers and beheld a vision of beauty with outstretched arms. She was all hers, she murmured to herself. It was a long time later when they separated from their long embrace and Alice settled down in George's lap.

"So darling, you must tell me everything," asked the blond haired woman firmly, taking Alice's hand in her own and sliding her other arm round her partner's slim waist.

"My first victory was in seeing Becky Elliott standing in the dock and feeling no more than sympathy. Despite everything we'd talked about, I was a little nervous right up to the moment of truth."

"Good, good," purred George, , mentally giving her partner full marks for her prescience.

"My real problem was with John Wade, Nikki's brother who was the instructing solicitor and he had got together with Brian Cantwell for me to admit taking on Becky's mother as a client, knowing that Becky was my ex and I quote 'I thought I could handle the situation only she went unaccountably ga ga so I wasn't to blame.' Sounds a pathetic excuse doesn't it?" Alice commented in tones of muted distaste.

"Good God,"George exclaimed in horror."If you'd done that, even Neumann Mason-Alan would have made mincemeat of your evidence. You'd have been stuck in an untenable position, darling. He'd have argued that you should have known better with your professional experience and accused you of negligence. He'd have destroyed your credibility- of course," George added hastily to soften her harsh observations , "I'm only playing devil's advocate working out what might have been. So sorry darling."

Alice had turned pale with shock only then did she realise the full extent of how she could have been taken apart in court. Her lover's gentle words and soft touch soothed her. She twisted round and delivered a kiss on her lover's full lips.

"So what finally did happen?" George asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"I admitted a lapse into stupidity, that I didn't put two and two together, that Becky Elliott entering the picture was like seeing a London double decker bus down a country lane. Brian Cantwell ran with it and the other barrister was caught flat-footed. It worked," Alice confessed with a shy smile, her long dark hair partly hiding her face.

George's mouth opened wide with amazement at her lover's brilliantly daring improvisation and, as the delicious implications of the discomfort Alice had caused, she laughed loud and long. In this moment, she loved Alice all over again as an admirable feature of her lover's modest personality revealed itself to her. In Alice's eyes, George looked beautiful as her free spirit was revealed in her deep joy and amusement and her arm looped itself round George's shoulders.

"Darling, what's extraordinary how Nikki's family produce two children so unalike," George finally said, wiping the tears of laughter out of her eyes. "Take Nikki who's worked hard for what she's got with sheer guts and determination and courage in a tight corner and on the other hand, her brother who's a fool, a coward who's had life so easy."

"I've seen him before but not up close. I despise him as the worst kind of man imaginable," Alice replied with distaste.

"But a woman can be different," George replied with a sudden mood change as her hand started caressing the gorgeous feel of Alice's body and started kissing her soft lips. The feel of the slim woman pressed up close to her, her long hair flowing over her shoulders and above all her sweet perfume acted like an aphrodisiac. The way George's mood could change so quickly was something Alice found deliciously challenging as she kissed her lover's lips, her cheeks with equal fervour. Where the blond haired beauty led, she could surely follow especially as her nimble fingers started unbuttoning her blouse so Alice right hand followed suit."I want you right now."

"In bed or on the floor? There's not enough space in the armchair," Alice asked huskily between kisses as she twisted around to lie more on top of George. That was all that the determined blond haired woman needed to hear. With surprising strength, she picked up Alice and rolled the two of them onto the conveniently placed white fur rug that lay near the gas fire. Both women murmured with satisfaction into each other's mouths that they had got away from the hard angles that the chair had imposed on them.

"This is more like it," breathed Alice as she felt her lover's body locked round hers and undid the last button of George's shirt. She was beaten to it as George's lips and tongue moved from Alice's neck to her nipples. Delicious pleasure ran through her system as the smaller woman's hand slid up Alice's respectable length skirt that she'd worn for court and up her thigh. "Why have we still got our clothes on?" she added, conscious of their encumbrances.

"Just what I was thinking darling," George replied, her voice edged with lust. It only took them a little while for the remainder of their clothes to be strewn aside while they were kissing each other's faces and necks. As George moved hungrily on top of her lover whose long dark hair trailed on the floor, she loved moments like these when she felt lusted after and she knew that George took her time like a true artist. She gave a little gasp as slim fingers delicately massaged her stomach with the hint that they would move down her body. With a sudden swift movement, they traced a trail down her hips and a teasing along the inside of her thighs as George looked down triumphantly down on her.

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetheart. I want you inside me so much. My hormones are going crazy on me." Alice pleaded desperately. There was such a thing that everyone comes to her who waits but she didn't get the logic right now. Her insides were aching to be touched as her hips were already moving.

"For you darling, anything," George said seductively as she slowly slid her fingers into the already wet spaces of her lover and expertly started thrusting against her, the movements feeling so right to the dark- haired woman whose body arched with joyous pleasure and whose hips pushed back in just the right way. The thought flashed through Alice's mind in her state of delirium that she and George had always had great sex but this time, her lover was adding that little bit extra which she was too bedazzled to figure out as respect for her performance today. The two women rolled around on the rug , tasting each other's soft skin and tears formed in Alice's eyes in being pleasured in just the right way. Suddenly she cried out in ecstasy as she climaxed and felt so grateful as George cradled her through the end of the roller coaster sexual ride. As the mists cleared, Alice found herself lying sideways with her lover, wrapped up in each other's arms.

"It's my turn to pleasure you sweetheart. I know what you like best," Alice said softly.

Those words were heaven to George. She knew that there was nothing that Alice loved best as slipping between George's slim legs and her lips and tongue to describe infinite pleasures within her centre and taste her sweetness, Neither women thought there was any point in wasting time in moving to the bed as the soft glow of the sidelights and the wide spaces of the floor was boudoir enough. Cleaning the rug could wait till another day, along with everything else in life.

Half an hour later, there was a complete contrast in moods, colours and emotions. In George's house, with lights turned down low and dark gold, Alice was lying between George's slim legs as the blond-haired beauty had come down from her glorious climax and long slim fingers were tracing patterns on her flat stomach, her full breasts. In another part of town, the cheaply utilitarian prison officer's room at Larkhall, complete with dusty filing cabinets and shopworn armchairs where Lou Stoke, G Wing Governor was having a full-on row with Sylvia Hollamby and Di Barker under the harsh neon light while Colin Hedges was struggling to get a word in edgeways

"You can't let that troublemaking lesbian have access to a guitar? It's just asking for trouble," Di Barker shouted angrily, her thin mouth set in a downturned line.

"Di's right," chimed in Bodybag in sniffish tones. "Who knows what that madam might get up to?"

Lou Stoke, dressed in her favourite informal trouser suit , had taken the job as a welcome move out of area office. She'd soon identified these two women as her main enemies and knew she couldn't give them an inch. Right now, amusement just about won over annoyance which prompted her cutting aside.

"The pair of you have lesbians on the brain."

"I beg your pardon. We're concerned for the well-being of the prison service even if some aren't," spluttered Di Barker in just that self-righteous tone of voice she came close to regretting it without knowing. Lou threw her head up in frustration to view the ceiling and ran her hands through her shoulder length hair. She couldn't get over how these two bigots continued to mouth off without specifying what the trouble was.

"Just what is your problem?Try putting it in plain English. Perhaps you think Mel Bridges will unstring her guitar and use it to strangle another inmate?" outshouted Lou in reply as she finally blew that long suffering fuse.

"That's just it," Bodybag burst in eagerly. Too late, she realised that Madam was going to have an answer to this one.

"Even if she cut her own hands to ribbons into the bargain? Doesn't sound very practical if you ever looked at a guitar." retorted Lou, making the two women feel instantly foolish."What do you think, Colin."

"As her personal officer, I don't see it. Natalie Buxton's the one we should really be watching. Mel Bridges keeps her distance from her. After all, rules is rules," the man answered, oblivious to the glares from the other two women and stealing an old Jim Fenner line just to rub it in.

"Well spotted, Colin. It makes a change to hear some common sense around here," Lou said, leaving a deliberate pause before continuing in businesslike tones. "There's another thing. Every personal officer report tells me she has a genuine interest in music aside from being a suspected drugs baron who's held on remand pending her trial. Very well, we build this into the terms under which she's held and box clever. If she does misbehave, the facility can be withdrawn but that isn't going to happen without being run past me first."

The steely glint in Lou Stoke's eye told the other two women that she would stamp on any funny business they might get up to. Privately, she knew that she was in for more aggravation from this pair as she'd had word that a blind woman was due for admission on remand for an assault charge. Lou believe in not fighting her battles all in one go and wanted to get this victory under her belt before these two bigots got a chance to freak out at this new challenge.

"I leave telling Mel Bridges in your capable hands, Colin. Now I'm sure you've all got business to see to," came the parting shot, indicating to all that the matter was closed.

Colin Hedges had been assigned as Mel Bridges' personal officer when she first came to Larkhall Prison on remand just before Christmas. It took him awhile to get the measure of his new responsibility. Outwardly,. she wore an arrogant looking biker leather jacket but inwardly, she couldn't help her insecurities and reticence peeping through her guard. His immediate problem was that the cunning and vicious Natalie Buxton and her cohorts spotted this a mile away. It was a sheer fluke that she fell out with Kris Yates whose touchy aggressiveness wasn't to be trifled with. The secondary consequence was that the blond haired woman, wearing her habitual military trousers was carrying on a secret affair with the smartly dressed prison officer, Selena Geeson who was sharp eyed and quick witted and had the perfect experience to bear down on Natalie Buxton. Colin Hedges knew nothing of this affair but was grateful that Mel Bridges didn't end up badly beaten up as she might have done in the labyrinthine prison which had far too many dark corners for safety's sake.

Colin Hedges also had to cope with some bewildering changes in the prison officer power structure. First of all, Neil Grayling the Governing Governor finally achieved his dream and got his promotion to Area and a formidable disciplinarian, Joy Masterton replaced him. She had this very obvious spit and polish army attitude to her and woke up the relatively relaxed ways of both prisoners and prison officers with a jolt. Colin Hedge's perspective was that underneath Frances Myers's toughness, she was fair minded and listened to you if you didn't bullshit her and she had the understanding that Joy Masterton lacked. It was also the case of two female cooks in the same kitchen and Frances Myers jumped ship in fairly short order to a job in Area to be replaced by the more laid back, disrespectful Lou Stoke. On the other hand, the transfer from D Wing of the dark, saturnine Kevin Ridges made for trouble as he was soon promoted to Senior Officer and his duplicitous nature was exemplified by him being able to ingratiate himself to Lou Stoke yet work in cahoots behind her back with Bodybag who had got promotion to the pivotal role of Principal Officer. With all these changes, the most far reaching change was the recent transfer to Larkhall of the tough, streetwise Pat Kerrigan from Holloway to Larkhall. To the reactionary prison officers, she was instantly in their bad books as her reputation of 'running the wing' was transferred in quicker than the prison service paperwork. Contrarily, Colin Hedges saw beneath her hard nosed and suspicious exterior and realised that she operated simple litmus test of trust and not trust on everyone she met. Thus, she wasn't above a workable arrangement with a screw and loathed Natalie Buxton with a vengeance.

In this ever changing world, Colin Hedges peeped his head round Mel Bridges' cell door, carrying an ill-defined object behind his back. Instantly, Mel put two and two together and did her best to conceal her feelings of absolute joy that radiated through her nervous system.

Since she'd heard from her mother that her guitar was on the way, it crossed her mind that it didn't mean that she'd necessarily get it, no matter what the rules said. She viewed Bodybag and Spiers strutting arrogantly around the wing and knew that, however much the new Wing Governor, Lou Stokes meant well, she hadn't got the measure of the wing as she reluctantly conceded that Frances Myers had. Mel grasped the fact that she would have to sit this one out and thought twice about talking even to the amiable Colin Hedges It was in this way that she got through the days until today.

"You know what this means Mel?" Colin said after a preamble which went right over Mel's head, so up high she was. "This privilege could be taken away from you if you misbehave even though, being on remand, you have more privileges than those who have been convicted."

"I swear that I've missed playing music more than you can imagine. I used to have my electric guitar propping up the corner and not touch it for ages just because it was there," Mel said with an intensity of feeling that convinced Colin of her sincerity. She looked at the shiny golden varnished shape of the box, the copper frets lining the fretboard and longed to get the feeling of holding it, perhaps more than any lover she'd been with. It gave her a pang of regret that she hadn't stuck to what she had wanted most even despite the hard times she'd gone through as a struggling musician way back when.

Colin knew that this woman, so tricky in some respect as a drugs dealer, had found a more honest part of herself and wanted to be reacquainted with her music more than anything else in the world. He left her to it and from the other side of the prison cell, he heard faint sounds as she started getting the guitar tuned into shape.


	22. Chapter 22

In other offices, John George and Jo were overcoming their shared distaste in opening the files for the mortgage fraud case, their thoughts running along parallel lines but John got there first as he was up, bright and early in his chambers on Tuesday. March 11th 2003, the day before the trial was due to start. .

This wasn't a job for a judge, John reasoned as the sunlight streamed through his

window and Coope busy at her own work. An accountant with some grasp of civil procedure could do it better justice than he, he reasoned. He had once scoffed at Judge Hulme when he talked about victimless crimes as he carried a pile of files off his desk and towards his own chambers. He hadn't been able to work out who was robbed when he'd briefly scanned the set of files last time around before providence took them off his hands. This kind of trial wasn't his speciality but now he supposed he had to make the best of a bad job. The worst of it was the dry financial terminology which obfuscated his normal facility for abstract thinking and that really annoyed him.

Finally, he plugged in his computer, accessed the internet, googled the search phrases and brought up a number of options and a large document came to hand which he studied with great interest. As he scrawled down the parties to hand, he could see that the simpler versions of mortgage fraud boiled down to the borrower deliberately over-stretching his commitments beyond what he would ordinarily be allowed. Where the property was acquired as an investment but represented as for owner occupancy, the fraud represents the lower interest rate for owner-occupied properties, the loan is only harmful if defaulted on. John traced on his paper alternative scenarios where the property value is understated to get the loan or overstated for the borrower to have money left over, where the borrower's income is overstated, where the nature of the borrower's employment is misrepresented, where the borrower's other liabilities are not declared, John certainly deprecated such shady dealings but he could not in all honesty see where the crime ramified beyond reckless borrowing so that it could be ill afforded and might be defaulted on, John could see the effects ramify any further than a court hearing to repossess the property and stress and strain on the family. Now that he had investigated, he conceded Judge Hulme had an arguable case of victimless crime much though he had distrusted the man and his principles. It wasn't until he looked at the case of fraud for profit that he started to be interested.

" A complex scheme involving multiple parties, including mortgage lending professionals, in a financially motivated attempt to defraud the lender of large sums of money. Fraud for profit schemes frequently include a straw borrower whose credit is used, a dishonest appraiser who intentionally and significantly overstates the value of the subject property, a dishonest settlement agent who might prepare two sets of settlement statements or makes disbursements from loan proceeds which are not disclosed on the settlement statement, and a property owner, all in a coordinated attempt to obtain an inappropriately large loan. The parties involved share the ill-gotten gains and the mortgage eventually goes into default. In other cases, naive "investors" are lured into the scheme with the organizer's promise that the home will be repaired, repairs and/or renovations will be made, tenants will located, rents will be collected, mortgage payments made and profits will be split upon sale of the property, all without the active participation of the straw buyer. Once the loan is closed, the organizer disappears, no repairs are made nor renters found, and the "investor" is liable for paying the mortgage on a property that is not worth what is owed, leaving the "investor" financially ruined. If undetected, a bank may lend hundreds of thousands of dollars against a property that is actually worth far less and in large schemes with multiple transactions, banks may lend millions more than the properties are worth..."

John traced lines between the following parties

Investor

Estate agent valuing the property

The lawyer drawing up two settlement statements, the bogus one omitting the sum of money siphoned off.

The property owner

The investor finding out, too late, that the loan has been defaulted on as it is set at an impossibly high amount, the middleman disappears, the loan / repairs not done/ tenants not found/ the investor in negative equity and financially ruined.

"Aha," John exclaimed in righteous, satisfied anger,"the villains are unmasked behind their smokescreen of financial jargon. The question for the court is, can the prosecution establish if some or all of the parties knowingly conspired to such criminality? I have it now."

Looking at the court papers, he idly noted the accused, some anonymous estate agent whose blurb was self aggrandizing, ditto for the property owner who was conveniently based in the island of Jersey and one Jim Patterson solicitor of Patterson and Walker. The name rang a faint bell from somewhere but he couldn't think where. The summonses had been served and all parties should be in court at the appointed hour.

The watery sun tried its best to peer through the clouds but the high walls of Larkhall Prison ensured they were shut out along with all hope. The large white security wagon containing a fresh influx of prisoners, drew up past the large wooden prison gates which had been opened up for its admission and then lumbered forward into the prison yard. Muffled shouts and yells echoed from within through which a clear, well-modulated voice cut through. This was easy enough for the woman who in her schooldays had once sung in the choir at the Albert Hall, one Kristine Thorne who by now felt jostled and already bristling at her personal space being intruded upon.

"Let us out, you bastards. There's a blind woman in here, fat chance you care," yelled a plump middle-aged feisty woman as the door was flung open. She was latching onto Kristine's predicament to give the screws hell.

"Out of the van everyone," called the prison guard, puzzled that there was one woman at the front who wasn't blinking her eyes at the blinding daylight.

"Give me my white stick you stole off me and I'll do it. Make sure you put it into my hand," fired back the angry woman. The penny slowly dropped in the guard's unimaginative mind so he grabbed at the prisoner's arm to get her to the short flight of steps as quickly as possible..

"Don't you manhandle me up the steps, just tell me how many feet I'm away from them," she added with an expression of pure steel in her voice.

"I'll help you if you tell me how," offered the middle aged woman. Kristine smiled at this shaft of obvious intelligence and briefly explained. Soon, she tapped her way along the cobbles towards the steps while the other woman held her by her arm. The man's mouth hung open, not having seen anything like this before.

Thus passed Larkhall Prison's beginner's lesson in disability awareness and Kristine adding an emotional dimension to her extensive academic knowledge in the deficiencies of the prison system. She couldn't help thinking that Nikki had not spelt out the half of what she would now undergo out of pure kind-heartedness.

It took Bodybag and Kristine a minute or two of non verbal communication for each of them to loathe each other.

"Here's the list of items about your person that you've got to sign for," Bodybag said in a peremptory fashion pushing the piece of paper across the desk at Kristine.

"How do I know what I'm signing for? Shouldn't this be in Braille?" questioned Kristine.

"What do you think this is, a special school?" sniffed Bodybag.

"Have you got any leaflets in Braille advising me of my rights and official procedures?" Kristine persisted.

"You will get any suitable advice at your induction interview with the Wing Governor. As for rights, you have to earn them by good behaviour," Bodybag said in her loudest, most pompous tones. Kristine saw right through her straightaway.

"Which means that you may have them stuffed away in some dusty drawer but you haven't got anything in Braille," countered Kristine. Bodybag turned red with anger as this cheeky madam had got it exactly right.

"In future, when you address me, it's Miss or Mrs Hollamby. Your particulars please," she said, wagging her finger futilely and glaring at this upstart con. To the side of her, Selena Geeson took considerable self control to avoid rolling her eyes heavenwards at the crass behaviour of Mrs Hollamby. She'd neatly avoided being mentored by her from the start and aimed to stay that way. If she were in this woman's shoes, she'd have behaved much the same as her.

The rest of Kristine's experiences of being processed was of pure tedium as she undressed into the blue uniform dressing gown and medical examination and then gave way to the droll experience of having three mug shots being taken. The female prison officer's well meaning sympathy had obviously not adjusted to non sighted experience. She wasn't to know that it was child's play to the newly inducted prisoner to orient herself to a mental three dimensional map to the voice and wasn't a helpless creature. Kristine tut tutted under her final experience was one of pure outrage, as luck would have it, of Bodybag being allotted to strip-search her Her anger furiously blazed up as she insisted that she undress in private.

"Well, what's the matter, Ms Thorne? You can't see me so what's the problem? You get no special favours off me so don't you feel sorry for yourself. In any case, a blind woman has no business to be outside taking part in criminal activity. Assault? I've heard everything," she shouted with the particular intonation that set Kristine's teeth on edge.

Bodybag was foolishly ignorant of the fact that every single word from here on in was being infallibly lodged in the other woman's capacious memory ready to be transmitted to computer records and would come back to haunt this narrow minded woman.

"You tell me when I come to my cell and guide me in. I'll need someone to guide me round the place for a day or so till I pick up my bearings," Kristine said quietly to Colin Hedges, the polite prison officer at her side who carried her plastic sack full of belongings, including her discman and some CDs. She'd sized him up as quicker on the uptake than most screws and tried not to appear to order him around as she tapped her way along the landing.

"You're sharing with Pat Kerrigan. Governor's orders. She's new as well, transferred in from Holloway. She doesn't suffer fools gladly," observed Colin Hedges in his friendly fashion.

"Sounds interesting,"Kristine replied non committally with a peculiar smile on her face though he didn't spot it. Little did he know that Nikki's discreet handiwork was behind her minder's recent transfer.

Immediately Kristine was installed, she felt her new roommate's touch of doubt in her blunt but not unfriendly introduction. Seeing that she'd been sexually abused while a minor in a Roman Catholic children's home which ingrained a suspicious, hard-nosed view of the world, Kristine's calm self-possession impressed Pat. She paid her the compliment of cutting to the chase straightaway as soon as the cell door was shut. Down the corridor, the faint sounds of singing and a guitar strumming could be heard.

"I wouldn't wonder if you're worrying about being my permanent carer but I've been used to being independent. It'll take a little time to get properly settled but you'll find out that being blind has its advantages," she said to the woman who wore jeans, a black sleeveless top and bold features and facial expression. Her interest was engaged immediately.

"Suppose you explain in words of one syllable what you can and can't do. I know bugger all about blindness but I'm a good learner. You do that and I'll explain who I trust and who I don't if you want me to. How much notice you take is up to you."

A broad smile spread across Kristine's face. Nikki had been spot on in her judgement of her cellmate.

The two Julies had learnt much off Yvonne Atkins, G Wing unquestioned top dog with her combination of muscle and brains so when she got her release, it left a temporary power vacuum which the evil and cunning Natalie Buxton came uncomfortably close to filling. However, she was dethroned when Pat Kerrigan, a natural leader was transferred to Larkhall and the Julies made common cause with her. They had the sharpest ears as to what went down on G wing and that gave them influence amongst those who would listen, At least for the time being, a sense of balance returned to G Wing around which the prison officers added their influences, both malign and benevolent. Denny Blood was their natural ally, being grateful for inheriting from them the mothering that Yvonne had given her and glad in return to add her physical toughness to the mix in return for benefitting from their sharp observation.

It was at such a moment that Kristine Thorne emerged onto the wing, tapping away with her stick, accompanied by Pat Kerrigan. Natalie gave vent to an evil derisive laugh while Julie Saunders gave her the once over with her appraising eyes.

"You're just in time for breakfast," advised Pat.

"What's with this? Your new girlfriend?" sneered Natalie.

"Are you jealous?" Kristine retorted with less of her usual forcefulness, throwing away a certain measure of caution. She had meant to play herself in carefully and act as if she was there for the foreseeable future but academic research and gut feeling told her that a preliminary challenge had to be met head on.

"You're joking. I'm not a rug muncher even if you are," sneered Natalie, fixing the other woman with her most intimidating glare. Instead, Kristine's senses was appraising every nuances of the other woman's voice without her knowing it

"You're a nonce, Buxton, and everyone knows it," cut in Pat Kerrigan scornfully.

"It was a fit up, I keep telling you. They were after me. You know what the police are like. I was running a language school for foreign students to help them get their way around,"Natalie urged, seizing centre stage with all the force of her personality and, to tell the truth, she almost believed herself. Her voice sounded horribly false to Kristine and she had this woman figured out in seconds flat.

"I know you're lying. I can tell it in your voice,"Kristine said quietly, her voice somehow cutting through the mundane activities of mealtime causing Natalie's theatrics to backfire on her.

"How do you know? You've only been here five minutes. You can't see to the end of your nose," sneered Natalie but the sharp-eared Pat detected her enemy suddenly stripped naked. She'd quietly made her presence known but she silently blessed her new friend for opening up the opportunity to dump her enemy into oblivion for once and for all. She saw how her sidekick, the nondescript looking Ashleigh, was hanging back already. Pat had heard that the Julies had once accused her of this but hadn't got very far. This time, things would be different.

"I'd read how you and your boyfriend ran a racket importing under-age European girls with the false promiser of improving their English, forcing them on the game and taking all their money,"Kristine said in crisp, self assured tones that made Natalie blink. How did this this bitch dig all this dirt on her? All the Julies could do in all these months was to make vague accusations which she easily denied.

"Where do you get your fairy stories from?" Natalie replied, making one last stab at feigning innocence.

"I just know," Kristine replied firmly. In the silent battle of wills, Natalie made an attempt to laugh everything off but she turned round on her heel, Ashleigh trailing after her.

"Hey, come and join us," offered Julie Johnson in her soft gentle voice. This woman had class and brains and this fitted easily into her diverse experiences and Julie's as well. Denny grinned encouragingly at this newcomer. To her, she was cool and amazingly tough to go up against Buxton. Unnoticed, at the back of the room was a woman wearing a leather jacket who watched on impassively.

When Kristine went to bed at night, she was struck by several conflicting feelings. They started with a profound feeling of loss that Jules wasn't there with his familiar sounds and she couldn't let Jules out to do his business. a second more comforting thought was of Pat's considerate presence in the top bunk and finally, the utterly alien feel of being subject to an alien authority and of loss of autonomy. She knew that, in order to do her job properly, she had to restrain herself to some degree and report, that institutional 'lights out' and peep-holes were the order of the night and she would need her wits to survive some of the obvious dangers and the real human beings who all lived together cheek by jowl. After all, it was this second group of people who gave her faith to persevere with her studies.


	23. Chapter 23

"I'd be grateful if I could have a word in private about the new prisoner, Ms Kristine Thorne," Bodybag said in ingratiating tones as she lumbered uninvited into Lou Stoke's office. The other woman sighed and slid her black horn rimmed spectacles onto her forehead as an attempt to phase out the vision of the awful woman who was her Principal Officer. Lou was a slim built woman with regular features whose long brown hair flowed over her shoulders. Being dressed in a black T-shirt, denim jeans and a brown zip up leather jacket, she knew that her get up secretly irritated Bodybag as much as Joy Masterton's loudly expressed disapproval which ran off her like water off a duck's back. She was cynical enough to realise that only Bodybag's self-serving instincts suppressed the expression of her natural prejudices- at least to her face.

"OK, so what's the problem? Is she planning a mass breakout? Is she reckoning on becoming our new drugs baron?" she asked sarcastically.

"I know you've got her induction coming up so I've been down on reception taking my turn to help out and she's definite trouble. She's one of those hoity toity women who'll undermine good order and discipline on the wing, mark my words."

"OK, I get it that you don't like her. That's something to be dealt with as normal on the wing- and I'll need to allocate her a personal officer while she's on remand. Is that all you've got to say?" Lou asked in tones of strained politeness. Pointedly, she gestured to the file which indicated that she was blind yet this hadn't been mentioned. Was this some attempt at a subterfuge or was this woman totally thick?

"It's her stick," stammered Bodybag as if as an afterthought."She's refusing to part with this white stick of hers. She's also got as thick as thieves with our other problem prisoner, Pat Kerrigan in no time at all."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but doesn't a blind woman either need a guide dog or a stick to get around the wing? I also understand that Pat Kerrigan has offered to help her in getting round the wing at least for the time being. Isn't the logic of your position that she's allocated a single cell so I'll have to allocate a prison officer full time to look after her? You and I know we can't afford such a luxury," Lou replied, trying to avoid coming over as patronising in the face of the other woman's mammoth stupidity.

"Madam shouldn't have got herself into trouble in the first place or we wouldn't be stuck with her," retorted Bodybag, her mind like a blank wall, her arms folded over her chest.

"Let's try using a little more nous. She needs her stick to get about and we could do with voluntary help so long as it doesn't backfire on us. My decision is that she can keep her stick but as a privilege to help with her disability but it will be withdrawn if she misuses it after reference to me on adjudication. That's my last word on the matter," pronounced Lou firmly, conscious of speaking in words of one syllable but really not caring if this woman's feathers were ruffled.

Bodybag glared in hatred at this woman. even though she'd been promoted to Principal Officer, she was still denied the power and authority that was her due. Jim Fenner was never talked to this way. She'd crossed swords with yet another do-gooder and hated it. She stalked out of the room uttering " Ma'am" in a low choked voice.

A little while later, Selena Geeson walked the new prisoner along the corridor while she tapped away with her stick. Kristine was pleased that this woman had the knack straight away of working with the rhythms of her walking. She liked the other woman's voice as she chatted amiably enough, asking her how she normally got around in the outside. It gave her the curious feeling that she was acting the part of a prisoner yet a part of her had to believe it to be convincing. Selena rapped on the door to Lou Stoke's office and sat down next to Kristine.

"Am I needed to stay or do I come back later?" she asked of both women.

"Your call Kristine. It's our first experience of a blind prisoner We'll need to learn this quickly enough while you accustom yourself as to what is expected of you as a prisoner," Lou said quietly. This pleased Kristine and she made a mental note of this.

Breezily, Lou led the way through her standard induction, her eyes flicking occasionally to the leaflet in front of her and taking care to cut out the worst of the officious crap. When Lou alluded to the leaflet, this gave Kristine the opportunity to ask the question uppermost in her mind.

"Have you got a copy of the leaflet you're looking at in Braille please?"

"Unfortunately no,"Lou replied after a distinct pause wondering how in hell this woman had worked that out. "I'd be kidding you that I've got one stashed away somewhere so I'll have to send off for a copy."

"That's honest of you," Kristine said with a shade of approval in her voice though privately, she wasn't holding out any hope that the Prison Service would deliver.

"I've got a question in return. How much of what I've said do you remember?" Lou asked in confident tones.

"Everything," came the self-assured reply. "Being blind means I've learnt to compensate." Lou gave an audible sigh of belief that she'd guessed right. She could hardly confess to this woman who was clearly as sharp as a razor that she'd googled her scanty knowledge, her assorted library having nothing to say on the subject.

"Which brings me onto my next point. There have been rumblings of discontent from some of my officers that your stick could be used as an offensive weapon. I can't deny I have a responsibility for their welfare as much as anyone else's," Lou said, phrasing her words carefully. This told Kristine immediately the dynamics of her relationship with her prison officers even though Selena, sitting beside her was saying nothing.

"Let's put it this way. At home, I've learnt to get my way around with the help of my guide dog in familiar surroundings. My stick is second best. I'm like a fish out of water without it, but given a few days of help, I'll build up an imaginary 3 D map in my mind. That sort of help is what Miss Geeson gave me to help me get to this office. Without my stick, I can't build up that map. It's in my interest to stay out of trouble so long as trouble isn't made for me."

Lou saw and heard all. There was the makings of a bargain here. She glanced sideways at Selena who was also seeing and hearing everything

"I think we've got a deal here. You can keep your stick so long as you don't misuse it in which case, I'll withdraw it for as long as I see fit. I'll also make this clear to everyone who needs to know this and I'm not going to tolerate any funny business."

Kristine heard the ghost of a smile in Lou Stoke's voice and knew where that dart was aimed at.

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask about or is everything clear to you as there's one final thing I need to decide on and that's your personal officer,"Lou Stoke continued with the first trace of hesitation in her voice.

"I'd be interested in doing it. I'm sure I can fit it in. We've made a good start in escorting her to this room," Selena Geeson interjected in her crisp voice.

"That's the problem with you, Selena. You're too good and you're pretty committed with one of our potential problems, Kris Yates. I was thinking of allocating Kristine to Kevin Spiers for instance who despite being Senior Officer is less occupied than others. He expressed an interest when I passed him in the corridor."

"I still think I can do it. Give me two weeks and if I find problems, I'll be the first to come back to you about it," Selena replied confidently. Beneath the surface, Kristine detected mixed notes of warning and the tiniest flicker of self doubt in this other woman's voice. Normally, she would have charged in to stake her claim and decide her own identity but, in her enforced role of prisoner, she was learning to hold back. Besides, she trusted Selena.

"All right. I'll hold you to your promise," Lou finally decided, unthinkingly looking at the other woman to convey her strength of will before giving way to a slight smile Kristine knew that this woman was bright and socially aware enough and didn't take it personally that she wouldn't be consulted on who would be her personal officer. What did arouse her curiosity was how much this was translated into everyday reality.

"You always want us to settle down to our homework so what's different now?" the literal minded Michael said to Roisin said on Saturday night when she and Cassie urged them to put their homework into their bags and go next door to Helen and Nikki's

"Oh, you know a change is as good as a rest," the dark-haired woman answered breezily. "Don't think you're getting out of doing your homework."

"When is Helen due to have their baby?" Niamh said in a quiet considered fashion as she packed her bag.

"Any time now. Perhaps sooner than they think. They need us to act natural around them, you know, be a calming influence. I mean all of us," Cassie said in her down to earth fashion.

"You mean grown ups get worried?Even you?" Niamh asked in her wide-eyed way up at Cassie, giving her that curious sensation of this child being looking right through her. The fair haired woman grinned back at her as she nonchalantly propped herself against the wall.

As Helen's expected day of confinement drew nearer, so did their heightened sense of mixed emotions. This was what they'd planned and dreamed of but what if something went wrong at the last minute. They'd both pushed the word 'miscarriage' to the back of their minds, clinging to the security blanket words of assurance that all the scans and tests showed that everything was on track. They'd been more grateful than they could express as they saw how Roisin and Cassie interacted with their children and joined in with them, charmed by such innocence and how they spoke a language that was similar but different.

"You're playing with the children to get practice when it's your time," joked Cassie light-heartedly.

"Of course. Isn't it traditional for a woman to plug into the wisdom of sisterhood and learn? Besides, Michael and Niamh are great," Helen said with perfect aplomb, conscious of Niamh looking up at her. She and Nikki were highly conscious of the way these children looked directly at them and they had had their share of bad experiences when their mothers were in prison.

Finally, they hugged their friends goodnight last Saturday and settled down to bed. Helen was all too aware of the baby inside her and sometimes complained under her breath that the combined heredities foreshadowed that their baby would kick its way into the light of day in the not so distant day in St Mary's hospital.

So it was on Wednesday night that Nikki came home as usual. A portion of her mind was also thinking in Kristine's direction and hoping she had settled down with the support that she knew only too well that she'd need more so than this very self-confident woman knew. She had to fight off her natural inclination to barge into the place when today was not the time and she had to trust to what they'd planned between them. It was almost as if she were Kristine's parent, she laughed softly to herself knowing very well that her friend would fight tooth and nail at such an absurd idea.

As they finished dinner, she was struck by a sudden impulse that begged to be spoken. She couldn't explain why she would think so as she'd had a hard enough day.

"Come on, let's go over to next door."

"You think they won't mind?" Helen asked, swivelling her head round. She would have preferred to lie in and chill out but when she thought they'd done that the last few nights, she let destiny decide it. There was a note of indefinable urgency in Nikki's voice that struck her like a reverberating tuning fork. "OK, you phone up and if it's OK with them, it's OK with me."

So it was that they found themselves in their friend's comfortable surroundings, a curious mirror reversal of windows and doors from their flat only with the clutter of children's belongings around them. Michael and Niamh had been allowed to watch their favourite TV programme to chill out for the night. The conversation was light and desultory and the soft lights made for a sleepy quiet relaxing atmosphere when Helen made the casual remark that she'd borrow their toilet. It was a perfectly inconsequential act and the others watched her walk with the particular gait that Nikki had become accustomed to over the months.

Then it happened.

Immediately, Helen's mind jumped back in time when she heard what she'd been told in ante natal classes about what would happen when her waters broke. This was real, she mouthed, absolutely real. For a moment, her mind froze in a moment of indecision. The solution came as she called out in her carrying voice, blessing her stars that she'd been so endowed by nature.

"Help Nikki. I'm having a baby. Help," her voice called out through the thick walls.

In the sleepy room which Helen had departed only a few minutes before, the solid walls designed by some long dead Victorian architect, faint sounds percolated into the room where, after all, some TV soap acted out the dramas of everyday families. The sounds surely seeped into the general mix, didn't they?

"It's Helen," Roisin called out, her senses sharpened by years of bringing their two children through the baby phase. "She needs help."

"What? I don't understand," Nikki said, her senses slowed by the comforting atmosphere chilling her out after a hard day's work.

"She's having a baby, I guess. You go and see," Roisin called out urgently. She'd half expected this to happen which was why she'd agreed for her friends to come round. Events in nature didn't necessarily happen by timetable.

"But the baby wasn't due till Monday March 24th?" Nikki queried as a logical point crossed her mind. The look that Roisin gave her made her laugh at herself for the absurdity of her thinking. It was time for her to act. She shot up and raced to the toilet while Roisin laid her hands comfortingly on her while Cassie reached for her mobile. In the toilet, Helen looked upwards at her with a slightly apologetic look in her eyes.

"Never mind darling. We're in the best place we could possibly be," Nikki said with aching tenderness as she put her arm round the other woman's shoulder. She was conscious that Roisin was just behind her. From this moment, both women's recall of later events became fragmentary and episodic.

"OK kids, we have to help out," Cassie said to the two children who were bewildered by the sudden shock. "I reckon Roisin's the one to head on down to the hospital with Nikki and Helen. She's been through it twice before."

"I want to go there with them and help," Michael said impulsively. Cassie looked at him softly and tenderly with a look of loving respect but ran through the practicalities.

"That's a lovely idea but it's not the best decision," she said gently, taking care with every syllable with such a well meant idea. "You won't know it and I only know from talking to Roache but having a baby means many hours sitting and waiting in a hospital room. Roache will go along with them while the rest of us settle down to bed. What I do promise you is that you and Niamh can go after school and visit Helen if you want. You guys have both helped them stay relaxed so it's only right that you're there."

"So how's mum going to get home?" Michael said after a long pause as he digested the idea.

"She'll go with Nikki and Helen and ring for a taxi. She'll phone me when she's coming and I'll promise to wake you up ever so gently and tell you the news only if you settle down for sleep for school tomorrow. Got that?"

At that moment, Nikki and a rather wobbly Helen came into view followed by Roisin with a bag full of necessary possessions.

"Keep breathing deeply darling," Nikki found herself repeating to her partner as if by automatic pilot from words she'd picked up somewhere along the way.

"I'm going along to the hospital. Will you all be able to hold the fort while I'm away?" a rather anxious Roisin pronounced. There was an expression of helpless dependence in both their friends' eyes that paradoxically roused the Irishwoman to take command of the situation.

"We've figured that out," Cassie said with confident reassurance. "The kids know what they're doing."

"Thank you so much," Nikki said softly and tenderly, making sure to take in the three of them. Then she and the others negotiated their way into the cold and dark of the Peugeot she'd parked only a few short hours ago as her head was clearing of its daily dues of prison projects and a brave-hearted woman somewhere out there who was being locked up by the same slamming doors and echoing sounds she remembered only so well.


	24. Chapter 24

A sense of heightened urgency propelled all three women out of the front door and into the dark and cold of the street outside. As they made their way down the path, Roisin had a momentary reassuring image of Cassie and the children waving and smiling from their front bedroom. Then she turned to shepherd their two friends down the front steps and towards the red Peugeot. As Nikki's free hand fumbled for her car key, her other arm protectively round Helen's shoulders, Roisin smiled reassuringly at them.

"Don't worry, everything will be all right." This was just what they wanted to hear. Nikki was scared that, at any moment her partner would be having their baby right there on the street and Helen's own body wasn't greatly reassuring her.

"We've got a long way to go, believe me. All we've got to do is I take care of the driving and you comfort Helen as best you can. Cassie's phoned the hospital to expect us," Roisin said cheerily as she took the car keys off Nikki.

"And I keep my legs together," Helen muttered weakly with a touch of dry humour that brought faintly discernible smiles to the faces of the other women in the faintly lit darkness.

Roisin opened the car doors and yanked the front passenger seat forwards to its maximum while Nikki eased Helen into the back seat. The other two women nipped in and Roisin gently moved the car forward and down the street. So far, so good.

"Can one of you give me the directions to the hospital? I've not been there for quite a while," Roisin said in quiet tones, the dark shadowed form, the reassuring mother force of nature behind the wheel and in control.

This steadied the two women. In particular, while Helen felt weak and sweaty, she'd used the Peugeot to go to the ante natal clinic at St Mary's over the past few months. She figured out that locking her mind onto this task was what she needed.

"Turn left at the end of the street ...and second right...at the T junction, turn right again...and step on it," Helen said between deep breaths and with a degree of precision that amazed the other two. She was splayed diagonally across the back seat, Nikki having whipped off her own coat and wedged it underneath Helen's back, while unselfishly cramped into whatever space was still left. Roisin shot down the road trying to go as quickly as she could without throwing Helen around too much. Presently, they found themselves on a dual carriageway and fortunately, road signs indicated St Mary's hospital's destination.

"Do I follow the signs in from here on? You're the expert here," Roisin asked of Helen just to make sure

"Yeah," Helen said while Nikki made shush shushing sounds and stroked her partner's hand. All three women were propelled forwards by the urgency of the errand even faster than the Peugeot was rushing along the road.

"I remember this stretch of road," Roisin called out clearly so to comfort the two women in the back."We're not too far away now."

"Hear that Helen?" Nikki said in soothing tones. Despite their friend's fast driving and kind-heartedness, her anxiety level was constantly on the boil as she felt a little guilty in thinking that everything would be all right while she was all wrapped up in her Larkhall Prison project. Helen smiled gratefully in response.

"Here's the turn into the hospital. Where do I go from here?" Roisin called out in a moment of indecision as she swung into the way in and saw a profusion of signs indicating a variety of departments.

Suddenly as if by magic, Roisin's mobile started bleeping and she switched it onto hands free. She could hear Cassie's clear voice detailing precisely the instructions on how to get to the right part of the hospital traffic complex when she came to it and Roisin called out clearly to Cassie exactly where she was at every inch of the way.

"We're here. Bless you Cassie," Roisin called out jubilantly and she swung the Peugeot into a handy recess right near the large front doors of St Mary's hospital.

"Tell me how you've gone on when you're clear to phone," Cassie's clear voice called out."The kids want to talk to you before I put them to bed."

"Don't come home without your baby. Bye bye, Auntie Nikki auntie Helen," called out a ragged chorus of childish voices down the phone.

"Thank you so much Cassie. Thank you kids for being there. We owe it to you all.," Nikki said emotionally. The dark-haired woman smiled warmly at their new identity for a few seconds and then she attended to her partner who tried to groan out thanks. Pretty soon, they moved through the wide hospital entrance through the cinema frame of frantically getting things done and crashed against the slowed down passivity of hospital admission.

"Don't worry, Miss Stewart. We won't take long with the paperwork. Your friends are welcome. We've got everything in hand," the fair haired nurse said with calm precision, glancing hastily at the computer screen as the three women breathed in the anaesthetised atmosphere

"I'm Helen's partner. This is a IVF pregnancy," Nikki said politely, noticing how tired the other woman looked. After all, she must be used to straight couples whose childbirth made up the requisite two point four children certainly from what Helen told her of ante natal classes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't understand. I'll make sure you get looked after," the nurse said apologetically, blushing faintly. Presently, they were taken to the maternity ward where none other than Jane Lancaster jumped into view from out of a side door. Nikki couldn't believe her eyes in seeing their friend dressed in a decorous light blue uniform top and loose fitting trousers when her permanent image of the woman was wearing tight dresses up to here and glammed up to the eyeballs. A slight smile curved her lips but she spoke in a professional enough manner to them.

"I'm going to be your nurse for the delivery, Helen. Ny name is Jane. First of all can you tell me if you want to lie on the bed or sit on the chair? Whichever feels most comfortable for you is fine by me."

At that point, Helen blinked her eyes and looked directly at the other woman. Up till then, she'd kept quiet and saved her energies for later, being sure that Nikki and Roisin would take care of everything..

"I think I'll take the bed," Helen decided and, with an effort lay down under the dazzling glare of a fluorescent strip light. Somehow, she found that comforting. In this moment, time slowed down and the silent clinical feel of the hospital took over with its artificial light and knowledge that things were being taken care of. Conversations became more sporadic and time stretched out to infinity.

"So this is your first baby? I'm sure you'll have been told that first born babies can take their time to arrive," Jane said in her chatty diplomatic style, feeling it was incumbent on her to say something. She knew full well that the duration of labour varies widely, but active phase averages some 20 hours for women giving birth to their first child and 8 hours for women who have already given birth.

"In that case, I suppose I'll be waiting forever for the contractions to start so I'd better get comfortable," replied Helen, resigning herself for an inevitable period of hanging round in a hospital forever without much happening. This put Roisin on the spot as she knew from first hand experience that the nurse was tactfully understating the situation and, while she wanted to ensure that her two friends were allright, she was becoming more conscious that Cassie and the children were waiting for her This nurse's presence pointed towards a solution.

"You three know each other?"

"Of course," Nikki said in her best 'Dr Livingstone I presume,' manner. "Jane's a regular at Chix, a nightclub we all go to. We know each other well."

"In that case, would anyone mind if I make my way back to my partner and children?" Roisin continued, not seeking to put anyone under any guilt trip,herself included. She'd learnt that much since living with Cassie.

"Sure Roisin," Helen said, forcing a smile."I'm sure I'll be waiting ages for the contractions to start. You've been a rock to us when it's been needed."

"Don't talk too soon Helen. You know that's my one superstition, asking for it," Nikki muttered in a low pitched voice. In every other way, the dark-haired woman kept her feet planted firmly on the ground, firmly dismissing all old wives tales except that particular one.

At that very second, Helen's stomach gave an almighty lurch and she swore loudly. It wouldn't be the first time that night that she'd react that way.

"OK, the show's on the road," sang out Jane in cheerful tones."You're welcome to catch some beauty sleep if you want, Roisin. Nikki'll text you with the good news, won't she."

At that point, Roisin's feet started to take herself down the corridor. She was highly conscious that she was stretching the umbilical chord that bound her to her two friends as the group diminished in size and became more and more dissociated from her. She was taking one patch, the others were taking another but she could picture Cassie still up this time of the night. She looked at her watch and was surprised to find that it it was eleven thirty. Purposefully, she strode forward to where they'd entered the ward, gave one final wave to the others and was gone. In a number of rapid strides, she was back outside in the clear cold air and reached for her mobile. Her family was only a short drive away through the darkness.

Back inside the hospital ward, Helen lay on her back while her body took charge of her. She was conscious of little else but what was happening to her as a wave of blinding white light shone down from above dazzling her eyes. At the centre of everything was the shaft of pain from each contraction so regular that she felt she could set her watch to it. Likewise she swore, partly to herself or so she thought. Out of her vision, two women were grinning and thinking typical Helen.

Above her, Jane was quietly taking charge of the situation and she could tell that, while Helen was being more stoical than the average mother, she had a long way to go and would be better off with some ready assistance for her pain Even then, she opted for a little diplomacy in her suggestion.

"Do you want a pethadone injection Helen? You've some way to go before your baby's born," came Jane's soothing voice with a sideways look at Nikki who continued to stroke her hand softly.

"Go ahead with it. I'm not someone who enjoys playing the martyr. That's why we didn't think of a natural homebirth," Helen replied slowly in laboured breaths of sounds. In a little while, Helen felt the sharp sting of the needle sliding in and she winced. She'd always hated injections even when she was a little girl and she'd always protested against the adult bromide argument that it was 'all for her own good.' Presently, she felt the pain start to ease and her sharp clear perceptions of the world about her started to get fuzzy at the edges. Her thoughts ceased to follow her normal linear pattern but curled round and round in circles for no apparent reason. It meant that she wasn't sure if she had heard odd snatches of phrases for the first time or had they been said before in this endless experience.

"Keep taking deep breaths," she heard Jane say or had she said that from the word go as soon as her contractions had started? She was almost sure that Nikki had said those very same words when she was sprawled out in the back of her own car and they'd been hurtling towards the hospital. Why hadn't she been behind the wheel herself? She'd always been used to driving herself around ever since she'd fought her father in the far off Scottish mountainside on this issue.'I won't damage the car on the hairpin bends. It's not rocket science,' she had shouted back at him. Then she remembered that Roisin had done the driving. It must logically have been the case since Nikki had been with her in the back seat next to her ...unless it was Karen as she is a nurse, she thought dreamily to herself. Then she was hit by another contraction and she felt a strong firm hand squeeze her own hand gently. Bless Nikki for being there, she thought.

"Listen to your body. If you feel like pushing, bear down," Jane's voice softly urged, a solid substance working through her fuzziness or had that been said before? Nevertheless, she knew she was in good hands and that was what mattered.

On and on through timelessness itself, Helen struggled as she'd struggled to attain everything she'd ever achieved in her life. She remembered the way she felt as she stood proudly in the stage in her schoolroom being handed a book as a form prize, shaking the hand of the nameless, enormously tall important grown-up who had handed her form prize. She had been standing up straight, her hair flossily brushed and she was perfectly presentable. She wasn't feeling sweaty, lying on her back, her legs splayed out, her body giving her all kinds of hell as the contractions were becoming more pronounced. She sensed an eager expectancy all around her through the haze that she swum through.

"Push...push..," she heard Jane call out eagerly and then Nikki's dulcet voice joined in.

She was actually having a baby, she suddenly realised. All those ante natal classes, all the periods of morning sickness, all the advice she'd studied was focussed towards this end and wasn't just her body acting weird. This felt like some miracle- it must be some kind of dream she'd been living. She'd always had this fantasy of being a mother, even when she'd been living with Sean but she'd never voiced the idea to him, even when he'd clumsily come out with the idea as his roundabout way of proposing marriage to her, Now Nikki was far more solid, so loving and not self-centred as he was. All this moment was a build up to the tiny helpless creature she'd imagined who was dependent on her care and attention and Nikki's as well. How calm and supporting Nikki had been through her pregnancy. She couldn't have done it without her lover.

"I can see the baby's head," Jane called out with the first exhibition of excitement she'd displayed throughout this infinity of experience."Keep pushing Helen. We're nearly there."

"Push, darling," Nikki's voice called out in a tone of unimaginable pleasure. It is really happening, Helen said. hardly daring to believe. Then everything came in a rush of movement and she could hear the cries of a newborn baby.

"It's a girl," Jane exclaimed delightedly. Looking down at the bloodied creature that had so suddenly emerged, Nikki couldn't believe their luck. Both of them had steadfastly refused to know which sex their baby would be, not wanting to lumber their offspring with the primal burden of being second best. Whatever would be born would be loved, they vowed. Tears ran down Nikki's face as she looked down at their baby and at her lover. She could feel her world shift on its axis more profoundly than she could ever have imagined. The tiny little adorable creature was perfection itself and she was theirs.


	25. Chapter 25

Mel Bridges was glad to wake up every so often fifteen minutes or so before the screws started their rounds, looking through the spy holes,barging into the cell with the same tuneless calls. This was one thing she was grateful for she woke up feeling horny. She laughed ironically as the rough scratchy brown blankets, the sour smell of the en suite urinal and the dingy painted brickwork were hardly the most erotic background imaginable and, by now, three months of sexual abstinence would have driven her crazy if there weren't this outlet. Of course, it made her painfully aware how much she missed the real thing and was the worst part of prison life. She could just about stand the rest of it being the total lack of control over her life, even Bodybag's attitude. She'd like to think that her malignant vendetta, though persistent, had become more low key because Lou Stoke was a liberal and was watching her. Since she'd taken over from Frances Myers, her life had become a little more tolerable. A stray impulse speculated that she'd got the hots for this woman but was it the case that desperation made her halfway fancy an older woman because she was smart? Her self protective instincts told her that, no matter how much she dressed casual as if she were free and available, official protocols, rules and regulations would always hold her back and land her in trouble instead. Oh well, it would have to be the old reliable two fingers she'd first found about in her early teens, she sighed. She was sleeping in her T-shirt and knickers so she started to stroke her skin as she imagined a lover would do to her and dreams of her freewheeling past came back to soften the edges of her present sad existence. There was that random blonde she'd bedded down with when she was a working musician, the wide-eyed dark haired woman with short hair she'd pulled when up on a drugs deal in London and finally, the innocent looking Jo Mills who had been on the receiving end of the very same fingers whose cries of ecstasy resonated throughout her past memories. It was at this moment that she pulled her knickers down and inserted her fingers into herself. She rubbed herself forcefully, touching herself in the way she liked best, her body moving rhythmically against the scratchy blankets. Right now, she was in a different place altogether her legs wide apart and she partly suppressed her moan of satisfaction as she came to a long sustained climax, her breath coming in and out short and sharp.. There was another woman on the other side of the wall and, who knows, she might be doing the very same thing only she might be fantasising over some guy or other. After finally achieving a limited sense of relief, she lay back on her narrow bunk and licked her fingers clean to hide the evidence. A minute later, she heard Bodybag's unmistakeably heavy tread grow louder and knew she'd barge in and sure enough she did. By then, Mel had straightened her rumpled blanket and turned on her side so there was nothing to give her away.

"All right. Let's be having you. I haven't got all day," she called loudly, looking down at her suspiciously

"OK Miss," she replied meekly, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl. At least, it was something to cheer up yet another day.

"Hi Julies," Mel would say brightly at breakfast as she always did to the two blond-haired women who worked behind the servery. She'd had her early morning shower and felt fresher. The more dominant of the two women looked back at her suspiciously.

"What have I done wrong?" she replied in her most innocent tones which was her best card to play.

"Oh come on Ju," the other woman remonstrated in her mild tones."She's all right. What's she done wrong?" She spooned in a few more beans than usual onto the other woman's plate along with some bacon and a couple of bangers to show no ill will.

"Tell you later Ju," muttered Julie Saunders with practised ease out of the corners of her mouth as she poured a cup of somewhat stewed tea, straight-faced. For some reason, she had come to distrust her even though she hated Buxton way more than anyone else.

Mel Bridges had learnt to watch life from the sidelines when she'd first been admitted to Larkhall Prison so she could stay out of trouble. In particular, she'd got it through to the others that her drugs operation was completely blown so she couldn't spirit in as much as an aspirin for the black market drugs trade and it had worked. When new prisoners arrived, it changed the delicate complexes of power which might result in her being left alone or might set new problems. It was the luck of the draw.

She'd recently seen a new woman make her entrance on the block, Kristine Thorne and her first thought was to wonder how in hell she managed to do anything to get herself locked up. She didn't think that reading Braille lent itself to criminality but you never could tell, she thought in idle curiosity. She'd seen her pal up with Pat Kerrigan and operate against the very evil Natalie Buxton. Rather her than me, she thought to herself. I'm a lover, not a fighter, certainly when there was so much potential being locked up in an all woman prison though the most she'd done was to size up the women. She remembered withholding from the well-meaning Colin Hedges that not only was she eager to get her hands on a guitar to play music when she had all the time in the world but that it was a guaranteed way to pull the birds like she'd always done. She's also spied a frail looking girl who she'd noticed for awhile. She definitely looked like eye candy to her way of thinking even if she looked scared and uncomfortable Perhaps there were possibilities after all and jail-bait fantasies could well become real.

In the Wing-Governor's office, Lou Stoke steeled herself to consult with Bodybag over the state of play on G Wing as was her duty. In taking over the job, she started to get to grips with hard data rather than rely on verbal explanations that concealed more than they explained. She had got to grips with the cell allocation list and her preliminary research had prompted a glaring question which she wanted answers on being ready to hear a reasonable explanation if one was forthcoming. Also on her desk was an application to change cells which Colin Hedges had brought before her from a certain Carol Barnes, who'd been convicted for embezzling money from the bank she worked for except that her boyfriend absconded with the proceeds. She'd been sharing a cell with Ashleigh Peters and was obviously being bullied so she taxed Bodybag for her take on the situation. She had a gut feeling that the knowledge was shared by more than herself and Colin.

"A lot of hot air. She's just taking her time in getting settled down to prison life. If she's unhappy about being mistreated, she shouldn't have committed the crime," Bodybag pooh-poohed Lou with her customary disdain. The other woman bent her head and ran her hands through her hair in despair. Good God, couldn't someone rid her of this ignorant woman or at least give her a brain transplant?

"There's another matter. I'd be interested to know why Melanie Bridges is occupying a single cell seeing as she's on remand and not a lifer?" pursued Lou Stoke.

"Oh that one can't be trusted. She's up before the court for running a drugs ring. Miss Myers was most insistent that we keep her separate so she can't switch her operations over here. Miss Myers should know about matters like this as she's worked for the drugs squad before she became a prison officer," Bodybag insisted, eager to quote an authority on her side. She wasn't to know that Frances Myers had tipped her off that she'd had an equal amount of obstruction from Bodybag that Lou was presently getting.

"She was in the vice squad, not drugs squad surely," parried Lou quietly. Bodybag's face shut like a trap.

"In any case, if months of intensive surveillance has produced precisely zilch information, I'm deciding we call off the bloodhounds. There's a double room spare here and I'm moving them both in to share a cell. Ms Bridges is no real trouble so long as we keep a discreet eye on her. That's my decision," Lou finalised, a hard edge appearing in her voice.

"Phone John Deed about our baby,"Helen said in the faintest possible voice as by now her natural energy had almost entirely drained away from her, her eyes being the merest faint slits."If it hadn't been for his kindness, we wouldn't be here right now. You do that and I'll settle off to sleep easy in my mind."

There she was making sure everything was organised right after all the overwhelmingly draining physical efforts in giving birth to their baby, thought Nikki tenderly as she reached for her mobile.

"Hi John, it's Nikki. We thought you should be the first to know that our baby's just been born in St Mary's Hospital. She's absolutely gorgeous with green eyes and tiny little fingers."

"I'm really glad for you both. I'm sure you'll both be wonderful mothers. I can tell you're phoning from the hospital," John answered courteously in slightly muffled tones. As the months had passed, he'd vaguely wondered how the two women were getting on and, though this call had jerked him from out of his sleep, he was touched by their consideration. A cavernous sound wrapped itself round Nikki's voice who sounded tired but on top of the world.

"We are. Helen's zonked out right now but she reminded me to call you before she crashed out."

John laughed affectionately for his two good friends' good fortune and Nikki's apt description.

"Get as much rest as you can. I know what you're both like. You've both earned it. And thanks for thinking of me." There was a slight tremor in John's voice that Nikki had never heard before. On the other end of the phone, it struck him that it was unusual for him to make a purely disinterested act of generosity in his life and it felt good.

After that, the news spiralled outwards on the lesbian phone tree from the moment that a blissfully happy Nikki, who was severely short on sleep, finally overcame her dithering as to who to phone next. Across the way, Helen and their baby were now both sleeping peacefully. She felt spaced out and in another dimension after everything that she and Helen had gone through (not to mention their baby, finally released into the wide world). Finally, she selected 'Trisha' on her long list of contacts and, conscious of the historic moment, the mobile indicated the connection gradually being made.

"Hi Trisha. It's Nikki..." she started to say when she was interrupted.

"How? what? Where?" she started to say, her normal precision of speaking being blurred by disturbed sleep. "Hey, it's six thirty. Haven't you forgotten the days of running Chix and sleeping in the next morning?"she started to protest. She'd been awoken out of her pit after she'd wearily said goodbye to the last happily drunken and tenderly emotional party-goers in the blackness of night, lit only by the club's flashing lights and packed up the club with Sally-Anne. Why on earth could Nikki be phoning? She should know better.

"We've just had our baby. She was born at four fifteen and she's beautiful. I had to tell you first," exclaimed Nikki as the joy within her surged to the surface.

"Wow, that's great news," exclaimed Trisha, her fluency restored to normal and her jubilation starting to wake up a naked, sleepy Sally-Anne."I'm so overjoyed for you and Helen. We must come down and visit you- as soon as we've poured a pint of black coffee into ourselves."

"Is it early?" Nikki replied hazily. Her faculty for orientation herself to time and place had completely deserted her.

"Six thirty. You know what that means. Still, we'll be up and round when the hospital lets us. Anything we can do for you? Bring in grapes or flowers or something?" Trisha finished hazily.

"You phone the rest of the gang, you and Sally-Anne. You'll know everyone who should be told. And flowers, yes," Nikki directed on her last bit of energy. She needed strong coffee herself and fast.

"Right you are," Trisha said as Sally-Anne's eyes opened sleepily as she lay on her back and a broad smile spread across her face as the penny had dropped.

"Who shall we tell? We've got to tell everyone," Trisha said excitedly as the full impact of their friends' unbelievable good fortune suddenly hit her after months of worrying. By now, Sally Anne had pulled herself together and, after brushing back her long hair off her forehead, she reclined on the pillow, half exposed.

"Suppose you phone George, I phone Beth and we tell them each to phone two others, including their partners and ask them to say who's phoned them," she said in slow; level tones, wincing as the sunlight hit her.

"That's genius thinking this indecently early," Trisha exclaimed enthusiastically, kissing her lover full on her lips. Ever since they'd been together, Sally-Anne had been the practical one. Soon the phones were buzzing.

\- George back to Trisha - "That's simply marvellous news. They'll be wonderful mothers."

\- Beth back to Sally-Anne - "I feel really guilty I've not kept track of their pregnancy, Sally. I'd have bought them bootees or whatever you call them."

-Beth to Jane - "Hey Jane, you won't believe who are the latest wonderful mothers..."

-Jane laughing back to Beth down the end of the phone- "I know. I delivered their baby." Beth grinned to herself at her droll mistake and started figuring out how she could squeeze in a hospital visit in the middle of her assignment.

-George to Kristine - "Hi Kristine, you'll never guess what," she started to say and then stopped as she realised."Hell, she's in prison,"

-Ros back to Karen as Jenny set off the police siren -"Right, Jenny and I have an unauthorised callout that can't be traced. Who says we don't like babies? Thanks, you guys."

-Beth back to Trisha "Just one thought, where's the hospital?" Sally, taking the phone off Trisha "I used to be a policewoman. It was part of my regular beat. Here's how you get there..."

George again back to Trisha -"I've checked with the others. Jo and I have a ghastly court case we both can't slide out of. We'll be round straight after then." This prompted George to make one more call. Lighting a cigarette, she hastily redialled.

George to Jo- "Jo, I thought I'd tell you something you ought to know."

Jo back to George, tension in her voice with a shared purpose at stake. -"We're not supposed to talk right before the trial."

George back to Jo laughingly.-"It's not that darling. Helen and Nikki have just had their baby. Isn't that fabulous news? See you at St Mary's whenever we can drag ourselves away." Jo was hit by conflicting feelings, intense happiness for her two friends and annoyance at George for her lousy timing.

As silence descended at Trisha and Sally-Anne's bedroom after the flurry of phone calls, Trisha was making them both two strong coffees when a stray thought crossed her mind and she suddenly exclaimed loudly.

"Oh my God. I've forgotten. Claire and Peter. Claire is Helen's oldest friend. What the hell is their phone number?"

"Just relax darling. I've still got it when Claire phoned me about being a witness at Nikki's first trial. Let me check my old notebook."

After a flurry of activity a confident '"Got it," resounded and Trisha made the call. After that, she sank back into a kitchen chair with the coffee on the side and Sally-Anne on her lap. They kissed and snuggled against each other. Trisha looked down the length of her lover's slim body which never lost its attractions for her, especially her long shapely legs.

"Guess we'd better put some clothes on after we've had our coffee," she observed casually.

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair

Parsley, sage rosemary and thyme

Remember me to one who lives there

She was once a true love of mine."

Mel sat cross legged in the narrow space left her in the cramped double cell, tinkling away on her guitar as she sang a song she'd first learned years ago in her teenage years. The romantic song, suitably same sexed, had been a guaranteed bird-puller and it was clearly charming Carol Barnes who sat on the lower bunk, misty eyed and open mouthed whose gaze never left the narrow space between the undone zip of her leather jacket. The signs were all there.

"That's beautiful Mel," Carol said, her voice being breathier than normal."It makes me feel comfortable and good inside."

"Being here or just the music," Mel questioned, her guitar resting on her thigh as she picked a few notes. Her voice was modulated low and sounded attractive.

"Certainly better than that cow Ashleigh and the other bullies on the wing," Carol shuddered. For months, her skin had crawled on its own, hypersensitive to doing or saying anything that might start the first taunt. As she opened her eyes and looked at this dark-haired beauty sitting so close to her, she realised that this was a poor compliment."It's more than that. After being done over by my very last boyfriend, I started to think that women weren't any better. With you, I feel protected," she finished, blushing faintly. She'd revealed more of herself in a rush of words than she'd intended.

"Careful," Mel laughed lightly, showing her perfect white teeth and laying her guitar aside."I'm more of a lover than a fighter. The two of us will get along."

"And what sort of lover are you?" Carol pursued, gaining confidence all the while. Her eyes never left the other woman.

"Women of course. I couldn't believe my luck when Lou Stoke called me into her office and told me of the cell move," Mel said in an insouciant manner as she scrambled to her feet and sat down next to the other woman. A thrill went through the other woman as this self assured worldly woman was choosing her of all the women on the wing. Mel took the other woman's hand and gently stroked her hand. Carol sighed with pleasure and gratitude.

"I've never been with a woman before...It doesn't mean I haven't dreamed of it and can't learn."

In this irresistible moment, Mel slipped one arm around the other woman's shoulders and with her free hand, stroked her cheek. Carol couldn't believe her luck as this siren moved ever closer and kissed her on her lips, softly and briefly at first. Carol loved it as this woman's lips tasted so soft and good and even better when she slipped her tongue into her mouth. Oh God, she thought, she'd never been kissed like this before and her tongue mingled with Mel's as she reached out and embraced the other woman. This is what it's all about as she slipped her hand underneath Mel's leather jacket and greedily started feeling the contours of her body. This wasn't some romantic crush but she desired Mel Bridges with all her body.

"My my, you are a fast learner," Mel whispered into the other woman's ear after she'd had to come up for air from their long kiss. "One thing though. The screws are locking us in for the night any time now so we'd better be ready for them. Bet you if Bodybag comes round, she'll be on the lookout for women up to all sorts of naughtiness. When they've gone, we can enjoy ourselves."

It took an agonisingly long period of time when they lay in their separate bunks, wearing T shirts and knickers. Their breathing came fast and light. Sure enough, the heavy tread came gradually into earshot and the cell door was opened as a dark bulky shadow came in.

"You two respectable?" she asked suspiciously, glowering into the dim lights.

"Yes Miss," Mel said politely while Carol stuffed her hand into her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

"Good then," she said, peering round at the women in their rightful places, slamming the door and shutting out the lights.

As soon as the door was shut, Mel clambered down with a broad smile on her face and soon, the two women were kissing and embracing. Carol felt a surge of desire rise up inside her as her lover's fingers traced a sensuous pattern on her stomach, drawing ever closer to where she craved. This was perfection, she thought as here was a lover who was strong and gentle and completely outclassed the macho but weak spirited men she'd dated up till now. Finally, Mel's practised fingers in her right hand slid deep inside her lover, coaxing her expertly towards orgasm as the other woman squirmed with pleasure. She'd never felt like this before and it felt the natural course of events to be made love like this. Finally, she came in a shuddering sequence of movements deep inside her. The only fly in the ointment was that they couldn't have noisy sex- that went against the grain.

"I want to go down on you baby," Carol said fiercely as they lay together. "I've had secret fantasies of doing this for weeks now." This took the wind out of the other woman's sails. She'd thought that Carol would need to inch herself bit by bit into lesbian sex and not dive straight into the deep end. She wasn't complaining though, especially as her tongue started to make all the right moves inside her and she was the answer to all her months of sexual frustration. Deep inside the dark fastness of their cell, the two women continued to make love hungrily as their striving for human intimacy.

It was an hour later when Mel finally settled down to sleep, her arm wrapped round her woman, reckoning that life was looking up at last. She'd always been a rolling stone so this was where she'd finally ended up. This wasn't what her old form teacher wanted for her but the important thing was that she'd got her love life back on track and she could settle down here for a while. As for the trial, that was just another day away. It didn't cross her mind that their cell deep within the castellated prison walls was an environment deeply removed from the world outside as imprisonment had decided. Her busy past driving her motorbike back and forth to London seemed dreamlike already. By contrast, far away in a busy hospital and deep inside that building, a mother and baby were sleeping after a hectic day of new life being born.


	26. Chapter 26

Much earlier on in the day, women were stirring into activity, making plans round their work schedules and calculating when and how best to get over to the maternity ward at St. Mary's hospital.

-Ros to Trisha-" OK you guys, Ros and I have to check out a potential witness at the hospital and go through hospital records. Jenny and I can be your advance guard, right?" Ros said in her customary forceful fashion. After a slight pause, she changed her tack to add in hopefully mild, reassuring tones. "We'll try and pretend we're not cops, honest."

This made Trisha laugh and Ros grinned in response. The other woman knew that, deep down these two female coppers were real softies..

At the start of the trial a couple of days ago, Jo had been mentally over the place even as she tried to focus in on the man at the centre of the mortgage fraud, Jim Patterson. Fortunately, she was closeted with Claire Walker in a spare room doing last minute preparation of work when she let her emotions about the case suddenly spill out into the open.

"For the life of me, I can't get worked up about this case, Claire. I can see that bigger mortgages have been lent than should have been done and they've pocketed the balance of the proceeds. However, I'll handle the case to the best of my ability," she confessed. Claire turned to her and spoke with more intensity of emotion than was normally the case.

"This case goes deeper than simple fraud. Don't you see that this network of crooked professionals who intentionally and significantly overstate the value of the property in a coordinated attempt to obtain an inappropriately large loan cuts deeper than this. The bank may lend hundreds of thousands of dollars against a property that is actually worth far less than the property is worth. This is the driving force of other malpractices. Other individuals commit technical frauds by miss-stating their income, nature of employment or fail to disclose other liabilities. The net effect of all this is that it all combines to bid up the sale prices of houses and pushes them beyond the ability of more prudent people to get mortgages. Peter sees this every day in the conveyancing work he does every day. I see a speculative bubble building up and what goes up must eventually come down. It's morally wrong Jo and it'll hurt a lot of people."

This sharp analysis centred Jo nicely. She'd not been personally involved with building society mortgages and estate agents for years and was uneasily aware that this line of legal work wasn't her strongest suit. A forensic accountant outlook would assimilate the fearsome volume of evidence which might drown her in detail. She hoped that George wasn't better placed. Jo gestured to Claire to be quiet as she pursued the trail of double accountancy which pointed towards the accused. This silence enable Claire to withhold the fact that the accused was her senior partner but she was protected by her sheer ignorance of his shenanigans.

"I'm ready,"Jo said briskly."Let's go and get 'em."

George's heart wasn't really in the case either. She'd only come by it from her previous reputation in civil cases when she'd exploited legal loopholes to protect greedy wealth creators from paying their moral dues and demands. In a moment of weakness, she'd accepted the case. ow she looked at it, she figured that her strength rested on the difficulty in proving criminal intent and the morass of financial details confused rather than enlightened. She would have to stonewall her way through the small number of prosecution witnesses and that would determine how the accused would shape up. There was an interlocking ring of accused at the heart of the case and her job was to ensure that this ring remained unbroken. She would do the job to the best of her ability but that was all .

As Claire followed into the courtroom after Jo and took her place behind the barrister, she couldn't resist the temptation to glance up at her senior partner. He looked back down at the woman who'd been his dogsbody to begin with until her succession of forlorn hope criminal cases turning up trumps started to steal his limelight and she was, no doubt gloating at his downfall. She stared back impassively, refusing to be drawn and play his game. She knew he wouldn't dare to squeal. From that moment on, tension filled the air between the two of them- before the trial had had a chance to start.

Dressed in their smartest police uniforms, Ros and Jenny hesitated and exchanged glances. They were women on a mission- a flower shop of the corner of the high street. Jenny took the initiative.

"We'll go together like always, dear. It's safer than diving into a crowd to arrest a Saturday night drunk."

"You think so?" came the dry reply.

Half an hour later, they parked in their allotted space at St. Mary's in the maternity ward, Jenny carrying a bouquet in radiant colours and Ros overcoming her self-consciousness in attempting a matter of fact request for directions from the nurse. It was off their beaten track of the accident and emergency getting witness statement of a victim of violence and without their official purpose. Fast strides took them onto the ward where, in a side ward, a very sleepy looking Helen lay propped up on pillows in bed holding a perfectly adorable looking baby whose green eyes stared out innocently at the world. Ros brushed her hand across her eyes and both of them felt foolish smiles spreading across their faces. Helen was awake enough for a wide smile to spread across her face.

"Hey, it's really great to see you both, especially with these gorgeous flowers,"Helen exclaimed, spreading her free arm outwards in greetings. From behind them, a blue uniformed nurse slipped past, took the flowers off Ros and popped them in a handy vase in the side cupboard. As she turned round to face them with a little smile in her official guise, out jumped Jane to the visitors' great surprise, as she broke free from her framed image of mini-dressed party-goer.

"Just popped in off my break," she explained."Helen was marvellous throughout even if she turned the air blue with curses."

"I did not,"retorted Helen, not altogether sure of the accuracy of her recall.

"Hey, it's great to see you both," a familiar well-modulated voice said from behind them, fresh from an errand to the coffee machine. "Want to be the first to hold our baby?"

Both visitors exchanged nervous glances. To tell the truth, both imagined babies as highly fragile creatures until an unexpected strand of motherliness arose from Jenny's subconscious. This was a magical moment as Jenny fixed her eyes first on the baby's tiny, perfectly formed fingers and two innocent green eyes, just like Helen's, such a marvel of nature...

At the Old Bailey, a very different drama was about to be enacted . Jim Patterson arrived in a taxi, dressed in his smartest blue suit, his tie tightly knotted as if to emphasise his respectability. He was saying to himself that the peremptory summons to attend court wasn't real- it must be some mistake. Claire Walker normally dealt with that sort of thing. After all, he'd hobnobbed over the years with estate agents, corporate heads, professional experts of all kinds so he'd grown to feel himself immortal as well as supremely important. The whole thing had been blown up out of all proportions and had come out of nowhere. He remembered how he'd sat with his wife in the luxury of all the latest fashion accessories that modern life demanded . The loud knock that demanded attention should not have been allowed to take place nor should the two policemen who confronted him have ever been there.

"You are not obliged to say anything but anything you say can be used in evidence against you," he heard this strange voice intone from some standard police movie that he'd watched on television. He couldn't believe that these words were addressed to himself. He was above all that- or felt he should be immune from the fate of common mortals.

Even as he entered the doors of the Old Bailey, still inflated by his own ego, he couldn't obliterate a sneaking thought that he might not get out of here again. This day, he was due to give evidence, not knowing what evidence had been given beforehand.

George felt really conflicted. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to hurtle down to St Mary's hospital and catch sight of her friends' baby and tearfully enthuse over their luck. It had been a long time since she'd been through the same experience herself. Truth to tell, she hadn't enjoyed the experience nor had she felt that she'd been a particularly good mother which was why John had been largely responsible for bringing up Charlie. She now felt sympathetic maternal feelings that she should have felt all those years ago. She knew that these feelings weren't to be be right now. Her innate sense of duty caused her to batten down the emotional hatches as she knew she was only too capable of behaving. She knew that all she could do was to mount a stolid technical defence, hoping Jo would overreach herself. .

Just before George phoned Alice to tell her the news, the dark haired woman had been frustrated to find that the client she'd hoped to visit wasn't available, could she visit next day. After the call, Alice realised that the gap in her timetable was now conveniently blank. With a huge sense of will rising up inside her, she went to ask her boss for time off. They hadn't been on good terms since he'd reprimanded her over her inadvertent involvement in the stabbing of Mrs Elliott. Sure enough, a twist of annoyance distorted his face so that he was on the point of saying no when she came up with an argument clincher..

"Come on." she urged I'm an only child, so is my partner. How likely am I to visit a friend who's just given birth than this one occasion?"

He gave way with bad grace and Alice put her long coat on and zoomed off. She had surprised herself by how forcefully she'd got her way. Soon, she was heading off down the road.

When she'd got to St Mary's and made her way to the entrance, she was pleasantly surprised to recognise Beth who was chatting to a nurse who had her back to her. She turned around and, of course, it was Karen Betts.

"Fancy seeing you here," Alice found herself saying to Karen who grinned broadly.

"I'm your hospital guide thanks to Chrissie Williams," the blond-haired woman pointed out cheerfully, her uniform not suppressing her individuality by one jot. She deftly led them down a couple of side corridors straight onto the maternity ward. The duty nurse, after seeing off a totally shattered Jane to some well-earned sleep, figured out who these visitors were here for. When the sophisticated, smartly dressed Beth first clapped eyes on Helen breastfeeding their baby with Nikki looking on fondly, the primal scene moved her deeply, all the more for the fact that babies were nothing like she'd ever conceived of before this important event in her life. Both women looked at each other, to their baby and back again. Alice's prior experiences were of the downside of family life and this radiant version made her feel energised and tender. Karen was the first for words to break through from her thoughts.

"I was only a kid when I got pregnant and married and so had Ross,"she said, eyes moist and glowing with emotions."You and Nikki will get it right, I promise you."

Even though Helen and Nikki were exhausted by the immensity of their experiences which had taken them out of themselves, their gratitude at Karen's unselfishness but through their bleary masks and they smiled gratefully at their friends.

"Thank you so much," Helen whispered, feeling the utter completion of her life, being surrounded by those dearest to them both.

*******.

Back in the courtroom, the trial continued apace as the spotlight was trained on Claire Walker's hated colleague. Now was the moment of truth.

"Mr Patterson," Jo said slowly articulating every syllable clearly, "I'd like the court to appreciate your degree of experience in your field. You are the senior partner of your practice are you not?"

Immediately, the man was hooked. George saw it all and groaned to herself. She knew that the man had had been briefed to keep it short and simple and not to get himself distracted. He was just like her ex-partner, Neil Haughton, Home Office minister, full of ego and self importance.

"I am indeed. I founded the practice and, as it became more successful thanks to shrewd management, brought in junior partners to help me out."

"So how is it that clients are allocated? Do your secretaries or some administration team do it or are you more hands on?"

"Definitely hands on. My specialism is in commercial and conveyancing work and I have junior partners who take some of my less complicated cases . We have branched out into criminal work and that is something I do delegate. Otherwise, once the client comes my way, I oversee every step along the trail."

Jo secretly grinned to herself. The fool hadn't the slightest idea where he was being headed.

"So there isn't another person than yourself that can be held to blame for the charges of mortgage fraud. I want to question you about your very unique methods of accounting," Jo said smoothly as she inserted the knife. George held her head in her hands in despair as she sat on the far side of the bench where she'd been scribbling notes as a form of therapy than anything else.

"You have to take into account modern developments in accounting and your traditional concept of the solicitor, building society,estate agent model is obsolete. Here is how it operates," Jim Patterson immediately replied, talking at lightning speed, reeling off the latest jargon as a supposed explanation of his actions. This was his standard defence mechanism when he felt threatened. At this point, John stepped in. He'd had enough of this man already as he represented everything that was modern, specious and repulsive.

"Mr Patterson, this commercial is not what the court requires right now. If you're asked a specific question, you're required to give a specific answer and no trickery. I mean to see that this trial gets to the truth," he said, glaring down at the man in the dock. That shut him up.

"If you turn to item HB1 in the trial evidence, Mr Patterson, you'll find the completion statement for the purchase of 10 Laxton Avenue. If you care to look at the purchase price, can you confirm for the benefit of the court the figure?" Jo pursued with a steely glint in her voice.

"I deal with a lot of clients. I don't remember details of every deal I do," Jim Patterson blustered, desperately trying to fend off this forceful line of questioning. Claire peeked up at this man with contempt and disgust which spilled over into total loathing. He'd lorded it over her for so many years and she'd had to repress the full span of her feelings so that she could survive. Now it was payback time.


	27. Chapter 27

"We've got an hour or so before we have to open up the club,"Sally Anne reminded her partner being the practical organising kind as ever. Trisha's facility with book keeping and financial planning dovetailed neatly together into a commercial partnership as much as they did emotionally. In their flat above the club, they had the feeling of a job well done.

"We've played our part as mission control," Trisha recalled with satisfaction."George, Jo and Claire will visit after their court hearing with Cassie and Roisin if their late night will let them. We'll catch up with Paul in his lunch break."

Sally-Anne buttoned up her smart black coat and wound a scarf round her neck. She looked longingly at their disordered bed which was talking to her.

"Pity we've not had the chance to do what comes naturally," she said regretfully.

"Never mind. We've got a lifetime of love ahead of us. What's to stop us?" Trisha replied kindly, slipping her arm affectionately round her lover's waist.

As the two women joined the milling throng at hospital reception, they tried to inch their way forward. Only Sally-Anne's long ago experience as a policewoman and Trisha's injury a year or so ago served them in any stead. From just behind them, a pleasant male voice caught their attention and reassured them.

"Hiya, Trisha and Sally. Lovely to see you both. I've not enjoyed your company since the Howard League AGM."

As they responded in kind, Trisha could have sworn there were echoes of Nikki in this guy's greeting as she shook her head but welcomed another friendly soul who might have a clue about what we're supposed to be doing.

"You don't know where we're supposed to be going or what we do when we get there?" Paul asked a little sheepishly.

"We thought you were supposed to know. After all, you know most things," retorted Sally-Anne sharply. She had the suspicion that they were expected to have mystical knowledge as they were women and not a couple of clueless lesbians.

"Let's support each other in mutual ignorance you guys," put in Trisha tactfully as they were suddenly at the front of the queue.

It was when they turned into the side ward and saw the massed displays of flowers in the middle of which was Nikki gently nursing their baby while Helen beamed with joy that emotions that had lain beneath the surface all these months suddenly burst through. While Sally-Anne placed their bouquet of flowers collected from a florist along the way, the normally self-possessed Trisha burst into tears of joy, something she had never thought possible. Her old friend looked so right in caring for this adorable baby who has green eyes and a perfectly formed face, a vision of innocence that moved her immensely. With Paul to the left of her and Sally-Anne to the right of her, she felt utterly safe in revealing her naked emotions. It was then that Nikki's brown eyes looked in her direction with her perfect warm smile of reassurance when the roles ought to have been reversed.

"So how do you explain item HB2 in the bundle of evidence?"Jo Mills pursued relentlessly, feeling herself to be on a roll."Here we are, same property, same purchaser, same date of completion statement, roughly similar sales expenses but only the purchase price and mortgage lent are different by several thousand pounds."

"There must be a mistake," stumbled Jim Patterson, his self assured gift of the gab deserting him for the first time in Claire's experience, a fascinating moment for her.

"The only mistake you made is in being caught out. This looks like a classic instance of double accounting, especially as you gave earlier evidence that no one else in your practice went near your cases," John said in confident tones.

For a second, Claire was frozen with horror. Surely the man would attempt to drag her into his criminal enterprises. She kept her head bowed low over her papers. The very same thought flashed through Jim Patterson's fevered mind but he was sure that this dangerous woman knew that Mrs Walker was his junior partner or she wouldn't skate on thin ice. He decided this would only make matters worse for him. Instead, George intervened.

"My lord, surely this should be reserved for my learned colleague's closing speech," she interposed with a point of law.

"I agree," John said dryly."I instruct the jury to disregard the last comment made to the accused." He knew very well that the jury heard it crystal clear and was interested to see Jo start to turn towards the evidence showing that this sum of money had been siphoned off from the mortgage lender and how she'd brought the forensic accountant's dry as dust evidence to life. George gloomily agreed, secretly respecting her friend's examination technique. Meanwhile, Claire drew a huge breath of relief unknown to everyone else.

When it came for her turn, George did her best to throw doubt on the validity of the evidence but she had a sinking feeling that it was all to no avail. She didn't believe her own case so how could she convince anyone else especially as Jo had tied up Jim Patterson in knots. As the day went on, the man felt his throat become more parched and he was sweating.

"My Lord, I want to make a submission," George finally interjected, this being her last throw of the dice.

"I'm surprised you weren't there sooner," John observed."Can the jury slope off and have a drink of coffee while a legal argument is resolved. You'll be called back when we're ready."

A rustle of sounds ensued while the jury filed out of the court while Jim Patterson looked around warily like a tortoise wondering if he could let his head and legs appear from out of his shell. Jo looked on wondering what on earth was coming up.

"My Lord, I would wish to argue that the forensic accountant be recalled as a witness as a number of aspects of the extremely complicated financial transactions have come to light which otherwise will leave the jury confused," George said, projecting her voice as forcefully as she could even though her heart wasn't in it. She wasn't greatly surprised that John ruled against the request. The jury filed back in and, while this took place, Jo felt really sorry for her friend and knew how she felt. When the jury was seated, John took the opportunity to explain his intentions

"For the benefit of the jury, I should explain that before you retire to give your verdict on the charges against Mr Patterson, I'll be making directions to clarify what issues are at stake, what is essential and what is incidental to the trial so you won't be left feeling directionless or overburdened by the information that you have received. When the time comes to the other defendants, I shall adopt a similar procedure. Mrs Channing, you are at liberty to continue your line of questioning though I must admit that time is getting on."

"No more questions," George replied in a subdued tone of voice. John raised his eyebrows and declared court adjourned to the following day for final submissions.

"Come on," George said testily to Jo as they clattered their way into the foyer, closely followed by Claire."I really want to get out of here. I really need a drink even if we have to call at some ghastly, smoky pub."

"But you smoke," protested logically minded Jo Mills mildly.

"That's different," George counter argued combatively as if their trial was continuing after hours and then she smiled briefly. This was the first time she'd felt like smiling for a long time. In some roadside mock-Tudor pub, George knocked back a double whisky while the other two women stuck to orange juice.

"We're going to see Nikki and Helen at St Mary's so let's put this court case behind us and think of that instead," Jo suggested softly. George was suddenly aware that the other two women had been concerned for her ever since they'd left the courtroom. Only now, the clouds that had hemmed her in started to disperse as she recalled her excitement earlier when she was chattering on the phone for the gang to visit their friends in hospital. She was in good company, she realised, and grinned freely at her two friends. She'd taken a taxi to court anticipating making this journey together so she was happy for Jo to do the driving. A strong feeling of kinship suffused her system as they sped off down the road.

"It's a long time since we came here," Jo observed with a faraway look in her eyes amidst the hubbub of people milling round in hospital reception. "I was certainly a different woman then, a dutiful wife. How we have changed- except for Claire of course."

George smiled warmly at her friend's thoughtfulness and she promptly took charge when she faced the receptionist who smiled brightly at the names she gave.

"Your friends have had a lot of visitors. Mrs Conor and Miss Tyler are only a minute or so ahead of you. They're her neighbours I believe."

This snippet of news aroused curiosity in the three women as none of them had heard of their fellow visitors before. Nevertheless, they made their way to the maternity ward, carefully following the myriad of overhead signs. As they followed the twists and turns, they were hailed by a woman with a strong Irish accent.

"Excuse me, have you any idea where the maternity ward is? We're completely lost," confessed a well-dressed woman smiling nervously at them. The smaller harassed looking woman with her was fair haired and walked a few paces behind her friend.

"We're going there ourselves to visit friends of ours," Jo said in her friendly fashion. Meanwhile, George was looking thoughtfully at them and interposed a question.

"You wouldn't be looking for Helen Stewart and Nikki Wade by any chance?" Instantly, the two strangers' faces brightened with relief and the five of them started chattering away in sheer relief in the middle of the busy junction. They made their way down the final stretch and Roisin finally remembered how they'd got here last night. Of course it was obvious now but their late night and a full day's work for them both had scrambled their senses.

"Of course, now I recognise the way," Roisin exclaimed as her memory came back to her.

"Have you been here before?" a surprised Jo enquired.

"Oh yes, I took Nikki and Helen here last night. A late night while Cassie looked after our children and a hard day's work for us both didn't help us. Michael and Niamh are with school-friends so that lets us out to visit," Roisin explained in her sociable fashion. Jo could relate to this as she had had to make similar jugglings in time and responsibility when her sons were little. Finally, they came to the ward and the nurse's face brightened when she saw them.

"No guessing who you're going to visit," she said cheerfully to the three visitors. She'd seen a succession of gorgeous looking woman plus one friendly, personable guy and these women fitted the mould. "They're getting very tired so go a bit easy on them."

"We understand. I remember having had two of my own," Jo replied cheerfully.

When they entered the side-room, they couldn't believe what they saw. Around the hospital bed was an array of sweetly smelling bouquets of flowers. Their fragrance, the shafts of gentle sunshine and the drowsy feel of hospital air had a calming effect on them all. In the middle of this scene, were a very bleary eyed Helen lying in her bed and an equally tired Nikki leaning back in her comfy chair. Right at the centre of the scene was their baby, fast asleep. Wide smiles of welcome appeared on both women's faces as they greeted them.

"It's so lovely to see you all,"Helen said in a tired voice."I can't believe how every one of our friends have taken time out from their busy lives to visit us."

"This feels like all the school prizes and birthday parties rolled into one," Nikki added, stumbling over the syllables unusually for her."My parents are coming to see us tomorrow to give you guys space."

"You deserve everything," Jo said in her level headed fashion while George looked in in a curious fashion. Memories floated through her mind how these two women had woven their way round her life, George's and John's and enriched them in their strong benevolent fashion. It was only right that she and the others returned the compliment.

"May I hold your baby?" George asked unexpectedly in a shy fashion. She couldn't help looking at her as she realised she'd been here before. It was only now that memories came flooding back of of having been the radiant mother. She should lay aside her feelings of disillusionment and personal failings as a mother, she vowed to herself and she had a second chance at one remove. After all, Charlie was still out there and talking to her when she had the time. Jo looked at the emotions playing on George's features with fascination as her own memories stirred of motherhood, twice over. Roisin who carefully took the baby from Jo had no mixed feelings and, as Cassie expected, the Irishwoman was right at home.

"She's going to have such a magic circle of woman growing up around," Claire said affectionately of her old friend.

"And good guys too- don't forget John and Paul. Paul Williams came in at lunchtime and held our baby proudly," Nikki said sleepily. She felt bathed in the sound of soft friendly voices and gentle sunlight.

"What are you going to call her?" Cassie enquired. Her curiosity couldn't be held back.

"It's too early to say surely," put in Jo.

"First instincts work," Helen said, her soft voice barely audible as her thoughts flitted between the flowers and various random thoughts.." What about Rose?"

"Sounds right by me," agreed a sleepy Nikki as fate looked on from around them. The deed was done.


	28. Chapter 28

As Jane Lancaster's dalliance with Jo Mills was gradually evolving into something more substantial, it crossed her mind that she hadn't heard anything from Kristine for a little while and that she'd dropped off the radar. In a way, this was nothing new as the other woman was in the habit of phoning up out of the blue and that she was also engaged in a casual affair with her high court judge. She shrugged her shoulders as she knew better than to question or criticise her lifestyle much as she herself wouldn't be keen on anyone poking her nose into her own business. Her natural curiosity started to nag at her and, as was her habit, she readily gave way to temptation. She picked up her mobile without the faintest idea as to how her conversation would progress and was pleased that the call was picked up. An unfamiliar female voice answered her.

"Hi, I'm temporarily using Kristine's office and acting as messenger service. I've only just started here as a lecturer while I waiting to get my own office," she explained politely to the unknown caller on the phone.

"So where's Kristine gone? Has she been evicted or something?" Jane asked jokingly."I'm a friend of hers." The woman on the other end of the phone had heard of Ms Thorne's reputation as a talented lecturer and of her circle of interesting friends of both sexes.

"I've been asked to tell everyone that she's gone off on a two week research project where she'll be out of circulation for a while. I've been asked to take messages and contact details and she'll phone everyone back."

"I'll try her on her mobile then," Jane said automatically without thinking further. She'd not talked to Kristine about her work in detail and assumed that this was a natural part of her life.

"I've been asked to say that that won't be possible. I wouldn't want to lead you up the garden path which is why I'm taking messages," the other woman answered.

"Oh well, just say Jane Lancaster has called for a chat," the nurse said shrugging her shoulders. Very well, this meant that she'd phone Jo Mills up later on for another date. Up till now, her attitude to women and relationships was keep things casual. It intrigued her that this woman was coming on nicely for a relative beginner. She was ready for her sexual repertoire to be broadened out a little, she smiled to herself pleasurably, discounting the fact that she was the younger of the two. It's life's experiences that count, after all, she thought smugly. She thought she'd put on her thinking cap and sort out this interesting conundrum.

While Jane Lancaster might have been relaxed about Kristine's unexpected absence from the scene, but at that moment John was in a completely different frame of mind. This event took place on the eve of the mortgage fraud trial and John's natural practicality impelled him to focus on it. Nevertheless, a part of him couldn't help but worry how his friend was getting on behind bars. It mattered not that this was self-imposed and temporary. the worst of it all was that he hadn't got a certain perspective of daily life in prisons except for the numbers of criminals that he'd sentenced to imprisonment over the years. He knew that dangerous people lived there, that's all. For all of Kristine's exceptional resourcefulness, he feared that she'd make dangerous enemies, especially knowing Kristine's outspoken nature which also wouldn't take kindly to any suggestions of acting cautiously. He knew that if she'd listened to such advice over the years, she'd have never got to be where she was right now. All he could do was to sit tight and trust to good fortune. With a real effort of will, he wrenched his mind away from such shapeless, unresolvable worries and focussed his mind back on the first witness of the trial, a forensic accountant. He suspected that his natural tendency to interfere with trial examination would be a positive advantage so as to stop the proceedings from veering off into an abstract exercise in number crunching. When he finally got home to his digs that night, a whimpering sound told John that Mimi was demanding her due attention and even an unusually quiet Jules would be likely to respond likewise.

If John had his worries, Jules doggy mind really had his world turned upside down. He had been accustomed to being a guide dog for his mistress for many years now and had been brought along to many interesting gatherings of humans, her choice being excellent. He'd learnt to remember various trails (including going to her lectures when she had been a student, unknown to him) where he had justly been the centre of attention. He had a special cachet within the canine world where he was a working dog, not a childlike thing that yapped in an appealing fashion, went for walks and played tricks for their masters. He could do all that with ease but he had the infallible aid to one one-upmanship. He was never prouder when he was trotting down the road on his harness, knowing the right trail for his mistress to follow. How had his world come to this so that he meekly stayed at a strange home where another dog reigned supreme in her territory. He didn't object in principle to being displaced as this was the canine world where marked out territories were respected but he felt demoted to an ordinary dog and, well, it wasn't home.

Jules could remember the first signs of things being about to change for the worse. His first suspicions was the vet, that hated place where he was pushed and prodded by a strange creature wearing a white gown, all for his own good. However, his mistress's feelings weren't that of of nervousness and determination but there was a mixture of sorrow as well and that didn't add up. It all happened that night when that nice man came round with his friendly dog. This man was an especial favourite as he always gave him nice tasting titbits after deploying his most cute and appealing look for best effect when some humans were so blind so as to never notice it in the first place. Everything felt fine to begin with but his mistress's sorrow intensified which really worried him. Finally, he saw his usual possessions and dog basket set out in the hall but nothing of his mistress's and there it was at last. They weren't going on holiday. His mistress was going to give him away and no amount of stroking from her could detract from his misery. When they were outside and it came time for him to go, he sloped off away from his mistress in the direction of the car, peeking glances over his shoulder. There it was, he was packed off and was thrown into this new life. He was miserable and inconsolable and hoped his mistress felt the same way which he suspected she was. Humans did the oddest of things. However would he ever get out of this nightmare?

Ever since the night when Jo came with her and Alice to Chix and she'd caught a brief glimpse of her snogging Jane Lancaster, she'd been meaning to quiz Jo in the nicest possible way about her very attractive dancing partner or, put another way, she'd been dying to find out about the juicy bits. They'd been both rushed off their feet and, coincidentally, had not appeared against each other in court until this most recent case. Curiously enough, the finale of the mortgage fraud case saw George's insatiable curiosity finally get the better of her. She could afford to do so as it was now last thing on Friday when all the witnesses had been finally heard and both of them only had their concluding speeches on Monday morning. after that, the conclusion would then be in the lap of the gods or rather an English jury after John had given the necessary directions of course. She suspected that John would give of his best in this instance as he'd held the ring with his accustomed ease. After court was adjourned till Monday, she popped down to Jo's temporary office in the Old Bailey and leaned against the half-open door with a smile on her face.

"Do you mind if I drop in?" she enquired, being halfway there already.

"So long as we observe the proprieties as opposing barristers while the trial hasn't been yet concluded,"Jo started to say with a pretend severe expression on her face before a broad smile split her face in two."Apart from that, do come in. I've been dying to talk to you . We haven't had proper time to talk since..."

"You made your proper debut at Chix by seducing the luscious Jane Lancaster," drawled George with a mischievous grin as she carelessly took a seat opposite Jo's desk. The opportunity was ideal, she thought. If she'd called at Jo's chambers, she would have had to contend with Jo's mumsy secretary who was always hovering around unless she was was deep in the basement searching out a file.

"I had a pretty good night of it,"replied Jo, not sure if she was coming over as modest or smug or both."Jane hasn't been complaining. I suppose you want to hear all the salacious details."

"But of course,"George grinned back with careless insouciance, "Who else but me would you tell about your public coming out?"

Jo blushed but couldn't help but feel pleased about herself. In this battle of impulses, she was finally won over to spill the beans by a desire to confide and be validated and by pleasurable images of their nights of passion. The last words formed themselves easily in Jo's mind- this was not some hole in corner affair.

"She certainly is a looker like you say and I was really attracted to her from the word go- even when I made an idiot of myself the last time I came to Chix," Jo said bashfully, gently teeing up to the mark as she spoke in a breathless, conspiratorial manner."Between the sheets, she's really gorgeous. I mean she's an amazing kisser for a start."

"That all?"George teased, a mischievous grin on her lips.

"You know I'm shy about talking in purple prose about my sexual goings on," Jo exclaimed, attempting to swat George's arm and turning a brilliant shade of pink. Then the words slipped out direct from the depths of her thoughts right past her habitual guard." I mean, it depends where she's kissing. When she's down there between my legs, she really knows how to excite me...and I don't think she's disappointed in me when I go down on her."

The hush that followed felt like it had lasted for eternity and Jo hung her head in shame at her bedroom confessions. A nameless voice bitterly reproached her until it crossed her mind to ask herself that her lovemaking with Jane was right, what harm was there in talking about it? She peered up to feel George's kindness in the way she looked at her.

"Good for you Jo," she said with infinite tenderness "I knew you'd make out in the end."

The unintentional double meaning made Jo grin. Ah, not so prim and proper Mrs Josephine Mills, are you, thought George instantly.

"It's not just the sex. Jane's had the good luck not to grow up with the hangups I've been cursed with," Jo continued which set off a light-bulb illumination in George's mind that at last, she's truly seeing herself." She's so smart,so funny but tender at the same time. I get everything I could ever want in a lover. It's just that..."

"What on earth can be the matter? Jane's the answer to your dreams," asked an incredulous George.

"I don't quite know how to put it. Her fingers really do things to me but I really miss being penetrated if you know what I mean,"a flustered Jo started to say, rising to a peak of embarrassment as she confessed her sexual secrets. She really wasn't used to such conversations.

"Darling, you don't have to worry. The solution's simple so you can have the best of all worlds," George smirked as enlightenment dawned on her. She had been halfway conscious for a long time that what Jo had needed for years was to be shown a good time. She knew she'd never get a better opportunity than this and she rattled away at express speed. As she talked, Jo started to look dubious about the whole idea.

"That's what Karen and Beth do- not all the time admittedly. Something tells me that Jane is venturesome enough to go in this direction. It's not the exclusive preserve of women in dungarees and cropped haircuts. I wouldn't be averse to it except that Alice is averse."

Jo's eyes looked as if they'd pop out of her head with amazement but George was gratified to see that she didn't react with total disgust. Give her time she thought for her revelations of the other half of life to sink in. In the long moment of silence, George's mobile suddenly rang. With an exclamation of distaste, she recognised her secretary's number concerning urgent business.

"We'll be wrapping up this boring mortgage fraud case on Monday so I shouldn't preoccupy you with talk of esoteric lesbian sexual practices. Personally, let the best woman win the case so long as I get my fee- I mean the court case," George drawled .

"You can disturb be anytime. Who better to talk to than my one time rival?" Jo grinned in a refreshingly candid fashion. This means that Jo is definitely interested, thought George with satisfaction as she kissed her friend on her cheek and left to head on home and for Alice waiting her her. Mission accomplished, she thought, being able to phone Jane back with the good news.

Five minutes later, Jo's mobile bleeped and, with a thrill of satisfaction and a little nervousness, she answered Jane's call as she was still winding down from the trial. Her conversation with George had left her fantasising about this very attractive woman and what she wanted her to do for her. She said she would be delighted to go out for a drink with her and figured that she had just enough time to pop back home, shower and put on her make-up and shortest dress and head over to meet her. Sure enough, the wine bar where they met up was mysteriously dark and, to her satisfaction, displayed slinkily dressed women of all kinds. When she looked at her pocket mirror, she decided she didn't look too bad, especially when she saw the smile of satisfaction on Jane's face when she breezed in through the door. She knew that going out in public like this was way better for her self esteem rather than her hole in the corner affair with Mel Bridges. This was the aperitif to the evening and was the real deal.

"Oh darling. You really are brave," Jane said tenderly as this woman of hers who had no compunction in standing up in court and verbally duelling to the death to get her client justice. On the other hand, she got so tongue tied at finally stumbling out the words that she really wanted her to use a strap on with her. This wasn't a chat up line but something she meant. She knew that she'd deployed George's good services in this respect and knew that the essence of Jo Mills was the perpetual battle between her inhibitions and her desires. She couldn't imagine how she'd ever got to sleep with another woman in the first place as she looked the ultimate straight woman on first sight and perhaps it was that quality which had intrigued and later annoyed her all at the same time. ."You don't have to worry about a thing as I'll be so sure that you'll enjoy it."

"You're sure?" Jo asked with a mixture of hopefulness and nervousness. They were back in Jane's bedroom with the lights turned down romantically low and to hide Jo's embarrassment.

"Of course I am. You know I can make you feel nice and lubricated. I won't come inside you till I know you're good and ready for it. It won't take me long to get ready,"Jane said softly, winding her arms round her lover's neck and her fingers tracing delicate patterns on her skin. Jo sighed and slid her arms round Jane's waist as her nervousness dissipated and her desires took centre stage. This will really happen, she mouthed silently into her lover's neck.

Soon, Jo was reclining naked on the bed, her legs slightly apart and her arm stretched out. The wine they'd drunk earlier on made her feel nicely relaxed as she watched with fascination as her lover got herself ready. This wasn't some contraption she was putting on as she might have thought but Jane looking exotically different.

"Hey babe, I'll look after you. Promise," Jane said with her quick smile, blond hair looking a little dishevelled as she moved up closer to Jo. Everything will be all right, she thought to herself but it was nice that this woman ensured that her concerns were allayed.

Jo closed her eyes with pleasure and her back arched slightly as she felt feather-light kisses and finger tip touches on her body, leaving a delicate pattern on the inside of her thighs, her stomach and finally her breasts. This was the life, she thought, especially when finally her nipples received loving attention. Finally, Jane's nimble fingers slipped inside her lover and started to rouse her desires in earnest as she knelt astride her.

"Come here darling, I want you," Jo said huskily as she embraced the other woman and their lips locked, Jo seeking out her lover's tongue. Jane knew now that this woman, more daring and bold than she had ever suspected from first acquaintance all these months ago, was loving every minute of this new experience. Suddenly Jo murmured in protest into the younger woman's mouth as she felt two fingers slipping out of her but a different kind of pressure replaced it. Of course, Jo breathed, this feels right as she felt a magical presence move in between her legs and slide deep inside her. A smile of huge satisfaction spread across her face and her hips began to move all by themselves tightly against her lover. Being pressed up against this fabulous body and this all knowing woman made an unbelievable sense of pleasure spread inside her as this ultimate in lovemaking made her feel so close. They kissed each other feverishly except when they came up for air, their nipples swelled and rubbed against each other and their rhythms accelerated into a shuddering shared climax that seemed to last forever, leaving them gasping and helpless on their bed.

"Wow, " Jo sighed as soon as she found her breath and gently stroked the back of her woman's head with a new sense of pride and ownership."You weren't kidding. Thank you so much darling."

"The night is young," Jane grinned, moving ever so gently inside her red hot lover. Once again, she'd amazed her in contrast to her initial hesitation and an idea was stirring.

"Stay inside me. You feel so good," Jo said in a small, appealing voice and they lay together in a state of post orgasmic bliss. The quiet of the night was complete and not an emptiness of unsayable conversations.

"You know what's come into my mind to make the evening complete. I know you'd love it," Jane said slyly as she propped herself on her elbows, gently stroking the other woman's skin.

"On no, no, no," Jo laughed as the penny dropped. The idea was impossible of course.

"This feels like being fitted for a surgical corset always supposing I know what one looks like," Jo said dubiously as Jane helped her get fitted up. This felt very strange to her but then again, her private lifestyle had taken a curious direction ever since she'd veered off the straight and narrow. Still, it meant she'd stopped taking her pleasures sadly and long ago, faraway incident of being photographed by a clerk of the Lord Chancellor's Department, dead drunk, in John Deed's chambers and having to account before the PCC committee seemed staid by comparison.

"Never mind darling," Jane said soothingly from behind her as she wrapped her arms around Jo's waist."You're as used to being on top of me as underneath me. You'll be a natural. Once we're between the sheets, you won't notice anything except for the naughty things you can inflict on me."

"There aren't any," Jo said in all innocence, the duvet having long being crumpled into a corner. Jane laughed affectionately in response at this charming woman of hers. She was really hooked on the interesting contradictions that lay within Josephine Mills who still looked a bit dubious about the whole proceedings, about the ultimate in taking the sexual initiative.

However, as soon as she looked at the come hither charms on their bed, all her remaining reservations evaporated. As desires surged up inside Jo, she told herself that this was perfectly possible, just like the first time she slept with another woman. She'dd spent all her life self censoring herself and, right now, the prospect of sexually pleasuring her lover with a strapon gave her an unbelievably erotic and emotionalcharge. She licked her way up the inside of her lover's thighs and started to work her tongue deep inside her.

"You're gorgeous but you know what I want," moaned Jane as she started to exude the flavours that Jo loved and shaking her head from side to side.

"Just relax darling. Everything comes to she who waits. I'd have answered sooner if I weren't exploring your nether regions," Jo answered sexily, delaying her natural good manners in between kissing her way further up her lover's gorgeous body. This did the trick as Jane had never been on the receiving end before and as she opened her legs wide, Jo remembered the way that she'd been softened up by her lover oh so very gently, she did the same for her in return. As she slid inside her lover, she was entranced how everything felt right and the way that Jane's caresses and kisses turned her on so much as much as the way her legs were wrapped round her and their lovemaking became more passionate and intense as she thrust back and forth and deep inside Jane. It was, after all, the right thing to do as much as anything she'd ever done.

"You haven't got any more sexual tricks up your sleeve,you wicked temptress," Jo asked teasingly as they settled down together after what had seemed to be an eternity. Jane knew what lay behind this levity.

"Nothing special, babe unless we invent it later on," Jane said softly, gently stroking the other woman's smooth flank.."I'm only turned on by pleasures of ladylove that feel good to both of us, nothing kinky at all. There's nothing wrong with a bit of silicone assistance from time to time?"

"Nothing at all," Jo said, delivering her lover a full, soft kiss on her lips and cuddling up to her. Jane senses that all her lover's emotional defences in depth were at last lowered and she was inside Jo as much as this woman of hers had captured her own heart which her freewheeling attitude to sex had protected. They squeezed up to each other, locking their bodies round each other.

As a wave of satisfied exhaustion overtook them,.they finally curled up round each other under a hastily retrieved duvet to settle down to sleep. To Jo, life was opening up for her. Her two sons had flown the nest and were independent of her and she was free to live her life as she pleased and she had the blissful sense of being who and what she wanted to be. As for Jane, she knew that this was a turning point in her own life. She hadn't ever foreseen this when she'd first clapped eyes on that long legged woman on the dance floor at Chix last Christmas but this was one which she was glad to embrace. There was a sense of Ground Zero about this scene where everything prior to their coming together had been abolished.


	29. Chapter 29

Finally, Helen's natural physical resilience came to the fore and it was time for her to be discharged from St Mary's. Over the past few days, Nikki had nipped backwards and forwards to their flat with bits and pieces of personal effects. She had mixed feelings about going home. She had grown to feel very looked after while she was in hospital and everything was on hand should there be anything amiss with her or their daughter. She felt as if she'd been on a long journey ever since that far off time when she'd been rushed off to hospital and the existence of their baby had already created an emotional umbilical chord, a hypersensitivity as to how she was going on.

Jane came strolling over in her direction on Monday morning. As usual, she enjoyed this cheerful woman's company though it felt faintly bizarre to find someone from her separate private world intro her professional world. Helen quickly spotted that the other woman looked rather tired for a Monday morning.

"Heavy night or two?" she asked in her friendly fashion as Rose lay sleeping peacefully in the crib next to her.

"Busy more like. Still, it was worth it," Jane said cryptically in a lowered voice as she moved close to Helen.

"So long as the other woman was nice," whispered Helen in a conspiratorial fashion as the other new mothers on the ward were relentlessly heterosexual with boyfriends and husbands making their uneasy attempt to assume their new role as fathers.

"She's luscious, If you didn't know I was gay, would I look it?" Jane said out of curiosity.

"Am I the right person to ask? Gaydar, you know," Helen joked back. She mentally repeated her resolve with greater conviction of experience that being a new mother really wasn't going to smother the identity she'd evolved with such sweat and strain over the years.

At that moment, Nikki came strolling in with a glow and vigour about her movements, obviously proud of everything in her world.

"Hiya darling," Nikki said effusively, kissing her partner warmly and their daughter very delicately as she lay asleep in the cot."I really don't like sleeping on my own at home but I crashed out for twelve hours last night. We have cleared ourselves as L Plate mothers, have we?"

Helen laughed at her partner's ready wit as always. It was an archetypal moment of so many in their lives together.

"Ready and waiting. Are you cleared for being off work?" Helen asked with her typical outward looking concern even at a time when she might understandably expect that everything in the world would focus on her new-found maternal status..

"Just relax. Paul phoned to tell me there wasn't anything in the rulebook for me to take time off so he's going to get it rewritten to put it down as maternity or paternity leave or whatever. He told me to relax as he known what I'm like."

"So you'll switch off from work? It can't last forever," Helen replied, her soulful eyes seeking to engage her partner's thoughts. Nikki hadn't thought that far ahead..

"So this is it? We're released?" Nikki said with a nervous edge that Jane intuitively understood as Jane looked on. It was starting to sink in on these two new parents the reality of their new commitments but was it different for any other parents?

"You don't get off the hook that easily," she laughed underneath her discharge of her official duties."A health visitor will come and visit you in the next few days to see how you're both getting on. After that, you'll be fixed up at your local health clinic."

This was what both women wanted to know. Their departure from the hospital didn't involve breaking prison bars. They were psychologically ready to take the next step. Helen moved away from her bed feeling curiously lighter with more spring in her step. As she gained some strength, she took their baby in her arms and they strode towards the exit from the hospital, Jane and Nikki helping their move her accumulated belongings. When she passed through the double doors to the outside, a cold blast of air greeted her and her sense of purpose coursed through her veins even if she wasn't fully up to scratch.

"Want to get behind the wheel again? If you do, I'll look after Rose," Nikki offered as she steered the group towards their car. The thought that had suddenly struck her was already phrased in terms of three of them needing to be taken care of.

"It'll suit both of us," grinned Helen as she eased their baby into the taller woman's arms. A curious feeling of strangeness and wonder overtook her as, up till now, Helen had handled their baby as was natural for the birth mother and she had hung back out of a mixture of shyness and reticence. This was their first moment of real intimacy. As the tiny creature found herself given away to a foreign creature, she gave a sustained wail of protest. Without thinking, Nikki found herself shush shushing their baby, not letting her distress become her own. She walked slowly with a swaying motion which sought to comfort their baby. Rose was a living breathing creature who wasn't an appendage of either of them as she curled into Nikki's arms, feeling satisfied. The chill wind whipped around them, ruffling their hair but none of them paid it any heed. Helen stood holding her bag of possessions and smiling fondly at her partner and lover as all her attention centred on caring for their child. This moment was a harbinger of the future.

Helen gingerly eased herself into the driver's seat, conscious of advice not to overdo things first thing and took care when she put on her seat belt. Nikki glanced fondly at her partner getting the feel of the outside world, reassuring herself that the car was much as she'd last driven it even if she'd changed physically.

"That's your mother at work Rose," Nikki whispered into their baby's tiny ear as Helen turned the key in the ignition. A broad smile spread across her face as she smoothly manoeuvred their family for their trip back home. Had it only been a few days since she'd arrived as it felt like a lifetime had passed since Roisin had driven them here.

When they finally got home and into the spare bedroom, their eyes opened wide to see all the baby accessories they'd bought over the months. It had all seemed unreal and hypothetical all the time even as Helen's pregnancy had advanced a bit at a time. They stared around at their spare room even though they knew that, to begin with, Rose would sleep in the cot in their bedroom. They felt so strongly that everything lay ahead of them to know how to be mothers.

Suddenly Rose started crying for attention and, with new-found confidence, Helen figured out its reason, unbuttoned her shirt, unclipped her bra and soon Rose was happily feeding.

"I'm jealous," grinned Nikki.

"There'll be time sweetheart. I know it," Helen reassured her.

This momentary exchange of words stuck in both women's minds as an isolated shining spot in their lives.

A little while later, the tiny creature's eyes closed and she settled limply in Helen's arms, content. Helen raised herself very carefully, paced over very delicately to the cot and laid Rose down very carefully, Nikki coming on hand to smooth over the covers. A sense of perfect quiet fell over the house like the faint fall of snowflakes.

"What'll we do now?" asked a temporarily bemused Nikki.

"Get something to eat. I'm starving," pronounced Helen firmly.

"So that's what hospital meals do for you," joked Nikki light-heartedly and then , on seeing the look on Helen's face and knowing what she went through hastily added."Only kidding." She set to work to knock up something tasty for them both with Helen's help. Both their antenna were attuned to what Rose might be doing in the living room. Soon enough, they knocked up a tasty salad with fresh ham and potato salad.

A little while later, Rose started crying again. A jolt of nerves ran through the two women's systems. What can it be, they thought as they mentally fumbled towards what

might be the matter.

"What's it this time? Nappy or wind?" Nikki asked as some of the information they'd abstractly absorbed over the last few months started to feel more real. They were fumbling their way towards a different natural rhythm of life.

"Try nappy first. She's guzzled enough. I know it," Helen said shortly with a quick grin. She saw Nikki's reluctance written all over her face and confessed her own misgivings. "Come on, we're in with this one together."

The two women set to work with a will with all the various paraphernalia they'd accumulated. As Nikki sat back in the settee after peace was restored, she drank in the peace and quiet, her arm wrapped round her lover's shoulders. Everything was quiet and peaceful, almost unnaturally so after the dramatic events of the last day or so and the high pressure world of her work at the Howard League where every moment was precious. Even the phone was quiet.

Back in Larkhall Prison, Kristine was gaining confidence after her sixth day of captivity. She was picking up the lay of the land so that she ceased to need her helpers who had paced out the geography of the various facilities at Larkhall. It didn't stop them walking along with her as she proudly tapped her way along the corridors with evident pride. She'd even added the library to her newly assimilated routes where Selena had obligingly dug up a Braille short story from out of a remote corner of the library in its forgotten depths. No one could explain its presence but she graciously thanked the obliging Prison Officer as she sat down.

"Disability awareness, my foot," grumbled Bodybag as she and Di Barker popped briefly into the library and soured the atmosphere. "Another example of the powers that be insisting that we mollycoddle their kind."

"Political correctness gone mad," sniffed Di Barker. Kristine added this to her archive.

"It's nice to have some intelligent conversation for a change. Let me know if there's anything else we're not noticing.," Selena said, pitching up her voice a shade more than she needed to. Kristine grinned at her fellow conspirator as she made her way back to the desk where she was on duty.

A quarter of an hour later, Selena's brick like mobile rang and it was Bodybag on the phone for her demanding her instant presence. Her heart jumped inside her wondering if she'd been finally outed but attempted to reason it away as Bodybag's officiousness which had become enormously magnified since her promotion. There was no love lost between them.

"But I'm on duty here," protested Selena. "Kristine Thorne's here."

"Is there anyone else there," retorted Bodybag.

"Well, no but it's not proper procedure," Selena replied reluctantly. While she was carrying on a clandestine relationship with Kris Yates, instinct demanded truthfulness in all other areas of her life.

"I've got Colin Hedges on his way to relieve you. Nothing's going to come to any harm, not even with our oh so educated Ms Thorne. Now move it. That's an order."

Reluctantly, Selena made her way out of the library at a rapid pace. It was just what prying eyes were looking out for.

Kristine loved the quietness of the library which felt like any other library she'd been in and she was dug into the book when she was rudely interrupted by a stinging blow to the side of her head from out of nowhere. Her worst dangers were realised that Nikki had patiently warned her of.

"Like this then? Everything's quiet so I've got all the time for what's coming to you," jeered Ashleigh in her most unpleasant tones. It was a big mistake.

Dropping the book, Kristine gauged three dimensionally where her would be tormentor would be and she delivered a ringing slap in its direction. Fortunately, the other woman was slow on the uptake and certainly never expected a blind woman to physically retaliate. The impact of the blow pitched her back against the bookcase and a number of books were noisily dislodged onto the floor. Colin Hedges who was walking towards the library and had seen Ashleigh enter the room with an evil grin on her face put two and two together when he heard the row. He was just in time to intervene against a crimson faced Ashleigh and twist her raised arm into an expert half-Nelson hold.

"I don't need to be told what happened Ashleigh. You're up before the Governor right now and don't be surprised to find yourself down the block."

"But she hit me. See the mark on my face," Ashleigh protested loudly, without stopping to think.

"Are you really going to tell me that you were the subject of an unprovoked assault by a blind woman. That's a real first. That won't do your street credibility any good," laughed Colin. Ashleigh turned bright pink with embarrassment, wishing that she could sink through the floor.

"You'd better come with me Kristine," Colin said gently."I'm not risking a second assault." Kristine accepted his gentle offer with good grace. As she tapped her way out of the room, she blessed her good luck as she didn't want to phone up Nikki unless it was absolutely necessary.

Mrs Wade's eyes were running over with heartfelt emotion. She was a mother once again by proxy thanks to her daughter Nicola and her marvellous partner Helen. She'd grown to have a soft spot for the smaller woman with warm feelings while her daughter was fighting the sort of battles that her husband was trained for. She dabbed her eyes with a pressed lace handkerchief and, in between whiles, couldn't take her eyes off their beautiful baby. Her expert observatiions swore she could detect Nicola's strong features and Helen's green eyes. She knew that Rose would break all the boy's hearts or would it be the girls? It didn't matter either way and she trusted to these two women's solid good sense. They were quite conventional after all.

Her husband was the life and soul of the party, clearly jubilant at being a grandfather once again, something which he'd long since ruled out as an impossibility. He was proud of everyone, himself included. He was in charge of corralling Nicola, Helen and Rose into the best setting for a sequence of shots as if he were Lord Litchfield.

"You never know how babies grow up. She could be anything she wants," Mrs Wade said vaguely, knowing that the traditional routes for womanhood weren't likely to be ones that Nicola and Helen were likely to be keen on. Mustn't interfere, she resolved.

"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, begger man and thief," intoned Nikki from straight out of Sunday dinners thirty years ago.

"You remember all this?" Mrs Wade said, she and her husband surprised that Nicola still remembered far off childhood details.

"Of course I do. I've got to the point where I wouldn't want to deny my past like I once did. They're not guilty secrets either but part of what made me as I am.. Can you remember what it was like when I was born?" Nikki asked, her confident tone softening with emotion. Her parents knew that it was important to get their reply right.

"Of course we remember. We were so proud of you. The sky was the limit," Mr wade said enthusiastically.

"You were such a beautiful child with your shoulder length hair and dresses," Mrs Wade said dreamily, telling the truth as it was. At one time, Nikki would have turned away in embarrassment but not now."Your baby will grow up something like a cross between the two of you with her own character. That's important as we both know."

"And strong willed. You'd better watch out. Everything works out for the best but not necessarily the way you expected," Mr Wade said jokingly to the two women's rueful smiles.

"That hasn't changed," Mrs Wade said fondly.

"And now it's time for some family portraits. We'll send you copies of course," Mr Wade said, reaching for his camera.

The two women moved in close, Helen holding Rose close as Mr Wade clicked away enthusiastically as he preserved a pivotal moment in their lives even if they were tired and not fully able to appreciate it.


	30. Chapter 30

On Monday morning, Jo dragged herself from work, fresh from her weekend of pleasures. She freshened herself up and kissed goodbye to Jane Lancaster who had to head off early to St Mary's hospital . She was told that she was moved back onto Darwin Ward back with Karen Betts and Chrissie Williams and come back under Jac Naylor's malevolent eye. Oh well, she sighed, you win some, you lose some.

In the room made available for her, Jo Mills cribbed together notes for her closing submission with confidence that she could wing it in places she hadn't prepared herself. As she came into court, accompanied by Claire Walker, she unaccountably blushed faintly when she caught sight of John Deed, resplendent in his judge's robes, as he made his way towards his throne. Images flashed across her mind of herself and Jane , stark naked at the moment she penetrated her. For the first time in her life, she mastered her far too active sense of embarrassment and she reasoned to herself that what the hell did her love life have anything to do with John? He was not in a position to judge her or make her feel guilty right now and they could continue to be friends. Her two sons hadn't phoned as they were far away at York University doing what carefree students do these days. With an effort of will, she dragged her attention back to making her closing submission and to deal with dry as dust matters. It was her calling.

There in the dock stood Jim Patterson along with his accomplices. For the first time in his life, his brash confidence was leaking out of him so he held himself ramrod stiff and straight. Behind Jo's commanding stature, Claire Walker remained studiously seated and beginning to feel she was out of the wood and wouldn't get enmeshed in her senior partner's crooked affairs. She kept her gaze downcast as only now did she conceive of the possibility that her long term enemy might be removed from her life. Jo stole a sideways glance at George on the opposite end of the bench and pulled her wits together for one last throw of the dice.

An hour or so later in linear time or what could have felt like a lifetime, the trial was perilously perched on its tipping point. Jo and George had delivered their closing addresses with their usual persuasive skill and John had dryly cast his eye over the salient points with half an eye on his initial researches before the trial and the jury had retired to deliberate. Claire had watched it all and attempting to see the evidence through the eyes of the jury. A tight knit group of professionals stood before them, the sort of people whom the general public would have approached as supplicants for their most profound financial transaction they could ever make, estate agents, solicitors and mortgage lenders. The American term of crooked lawyers was outside their experience for were they not members of professional bodies? The shocking thing was that these people were caught with their trousers down, engaged in murky financial deals which sought to ramp up the cost of property and for them to pocket a share of the proceeds far above what they were entitled to. What they had done was to pollute the waters of financial dealings and to ramp up the cost of house purchase when clients were coming to her door who were already stretched to their financial limits. As her thinking had morphed its way to her own perspective with special inside professional experience, she hoped the jury would see the matter the same way. All at once, the filing back of the jury made Claire's nerves go drum tight. Her senior partner was first in line for sentencing- what happened when she got back to the office was something she'd have to deal with, one way or the other.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you have all agreed?" the court usher tonelessly asked at such a contrasting moment of high drama.

"We have."

"To the charge of embezzlement and fraud, what is your verdict?"

"Guilty." the respectable middle aged jury woman pronounced. She was very nervous, still wondering if she had the right to convict a man she might so easily have gone to for advice. The man wasn't the obvious criminal carrying a large bag over his shoulder marked "Swag" but the effect was just the same. She tightened her lips at the razor sharp realisation of what had been done.

"Jim Patterson, you have been found guilty of a very serious crime and it is evident that you have inhabited a world where your sense of morality has become very fuzzy and obscure. You inhabit a world of business high flyers and are content to reap the rewards while losing sight of your responsibilities as a "What can I get away with" culture which has become prevalent. I believe that you have still not acknowledged the full depth of your transgressions and, worst of all, you have betrayed the trust bestowed on you by your profession and for that reason, I am imposing a custodial sentence of ten years. Take him down," John said in ringing tones which made the others in the dock turn white with fear. Still not believing what had happened to him, Jim Patterson, resplendent in his best blue suit, had to be helped along the way by two court ushers who edged him down the staircase down into the depths of the Old Bailey where a white van was waiting to take him towards his destination.

"Court is adjourned for the rest of the day. I shall proceed with the trial of the other parties tomorrow so that counsels can have adequate time to prepare their cases."

All at once, the courtroom started to drain empty like bathwater escaping once the plug has been pulled. Claire made a move back to her office while Jo and George headed for the locker room to deposit their wigs and gowns.

"I'm surprised you had the passion and conviction to care about those card-sharpers. Of course they were on the take and broke the rules- I knew that from the start- but I still feel that it's a victimless crime," George observed dryly as they chatted away in the confined space. The room did duty for many informal gatherings.

"It goes deeper than that, George," Jo explained patiently."I've been talking to Claire whose her partner does more conveyancing work than she does. That crew were at the criminal end of a growing trend of bidding up house prices. It makes it harder for ordinary people, especially first time buyers to afford mortgages and encourages people to be less than honest when they declare their means and financial circumstances. I see that something's got to give and it can't go on like this. There'll be repossessions, bad debts, even building societies and banks at risk if they're fool enough to lend money recklessly."

"Oh rot Jo,"George replied scornfully."This is England in March 2003 and not Wall Street 1929. You won't have stockbrokers throwing themselves from the top of Threadneedle Street. These days, banks are much better equipped to see problems coming and act on them and everything's interconnected. We live in the age of computers and joined up government. Everything's as safe as the Bank of England. Take my word for it."

Jo looked at the confident expression on George's face and wondered if she was being alarmist and had been watching too many disaster movies on TV over the years.

"I certainly hope you're right George. After all, I don't want to have to queue up outside my bank to withdraw my life's savings in cash and stuff it under the mattress," she said in light-hearted tones, smiling at the absurdity of such a vision, reminiscent as it was of some cranky paranoid old fashioned pensioner. She finally put her wig and gown away in her locker and turned to face George who was dressed in her formal court suit. They'd removed at least some of their surface guises. A silence hung upon the air as each of them waited for the other to speak.

"So tell me the latest on you and the lovely Jane Lancaster," George asked at last with a wicked smirk on her face. All at once, a shaft of sunlight illuminated a segment of the cloak room, bathing George's face in sunlight or was it Jo's imagination?

"So you didn't really want to engage me in conversation about the ethics of the trial," Jo retorted. It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course not. I'm only concerned for your sexual well being, in a sisterly fashion of course." Instead of getting uptight and prudish, Jo laughed out loud, exhaling her breath and blowing free her residual inhibitions. George really was being a true friend to her.

"You are incorrigible. Very well, I'll let you into a secret. Jane was perfectly sweet about my so so British reticence to own up to my sexual fantasies. It was exactly what she wanted as well so I've had my first strap on sex and it was fantastic. There's nothing better than having your woman on top of you, between your legs and feeling her deep inside you. Jane is a marvellous lover as she knows what makes me feel good inside."

George opened her mouth wide at Jo's ecstatic flow of words. She'd never heard her talk that way before in her life. It caused an interesting sequence of mental images to slip through her mind which was way, way different from when she'd been the 'other woman' who had been the nail in the coffin of her own marriage. This had caused her a lot of grief at the time and was something she didn't want to think about more than her rage of being betrayed by her rival, not only in bed but in court. This had caused the enmity between them which had only been dissolved when George first took a female lover.

"I'm impressed Jo. This is a side of you I've never seen before."

"Needless to say, I returned the compliment later on. You have to give as well as receive," Jo said with serene confidence."

"You brazen hussy," George said with a dirty laugh.

"Aren't I just," Jo said, feeling fabulous about herself. She'd never had this kind of sisterly support before in her life. The pause in the conversation was suffused with peace and quiet. The various deliberations in the vast pile that was the Old Bailey felt removed from both women in the cramped quarters of the women's locker room.

"You really think a lot of Jane," George said softly and tenderly.

"I like her," Jo said slowly and thoughtfully." I mean I really like her such a lot. This isn't some hole in the corner affair as we're going out for a meal next Friday. I mean to go public with her. She's done wonders in stripping away my inhibitions and I only hope I mean the same to her."

"I'm sure you do," George said softly. She knew that Jo's throwaway reference showed that she'd put Mel Bridges behind her and she was free to be who she wanted just like herself.

Claire Walker had briefly exchanged congratulations with Jo on another successful outcome and then she swiftly cut her way through the throng of people and out into the fresh air. She hailed a taxi just as a blast of cold wind ruffled her hair. As she sank back into the passenger seat, she felt as if life was transporting her from one movie reel to the next . It now crossed her mind that she was destined to be in charge of the practice whether she or the others liked it or not and that Jim Patterson's absence wasn't going to be temporary. Her next destination was infallibly going to be sorting out the mess that Jim Patterson's departure had left and she recalled how years of mild mannered subservience to him had doomed her to slaving away in the shadows. Quite unusually for a mild mannered woman like herself, she was angry. She wasn't going to become the egomaniac that Jim Patterson had been but a little respect for everyone didn't do any harm Her first and chief obstacle was Jim Patterson's secretary, a stiff necked superior woman who'd made it her life's mission to be as obstructive as possible and now she was in a state of reality denial. That would have to change.

Claire was accosted immediately by the receptionist and it was obvious that she had to know the truth in view of Jim Patterson's clients and the cases in various stages of developments.

"Jim Patterson has been sent down for ten years. That means that for the time being, any of his clients have to be told that he's unavailable and the case will be reassigned to another lawyer as soon as possible. I'm going to have a word with his secretary and the rest of the practice try and sort out cover," Claire said in clear and formal tones. At least she thought she sounded right. The woman at the switchboard nodded

She felt tense as she paced out of the room and Helen and Nikki's stories of their more dramatic moments at Larkhall Prison came back to her. She hoped she would be strong enough to deal with what had to be done.

"This is Jim Patterson's work. It can't be touched," the middle aged woman said sternly. Theoretically, she had no right to talk to her that way but she'd climbed on the back of Jim Patterson's position of power.

"I don't think you understand that he's not in a position to give any instructions," Claire reasoned mildly. She hoped that sweet reason would prevail.

"Not unless I have a written instruction from Mr Patterson. Until then, everything remains as it is," the woman replied obstinately, staring over her glasses.

"Let's put it this way. I've been in court and I've witnessed the sentence being imposed. The police have taken away all the paperwork relating to what he's been charged with and they won't be coming back. His other clients and their cases must be reassigned. You haven't got Jim Patterson to back you up any more. Times have changed," Claire said persistently with a note of steel in her voice.

The woman glared furiously at Claire and threw the keys to his cabinet across the desk. Claire calmly opened the steel cabinet, half wondering if it would bite her. Imperturbably, she hauled a bunch of files out of the drawer and took them under her arm.

"I've told the receptionist to say that Jim Patterson's cases will be reassigned. That should help the situation," Claire said helpfully. It received a glare in response which was ignored.

As she came out onto the landing from Jim Patterson's room, doors to the other solicitor's offices opened in mysterious unison and young smartly dressed men and women looked to her expectantly. This surprised her.

"I'm sure you're wondering how Jim Patterson went on. I was in court today and he was found guilty as charged and he was sent down for ten years. The others will be tried tomorrow," Claire said with slow deliberation. A long hush hung on the air as eyes flitted back and forth between each other.

"Well, that's torn it. we've got no one to lead us now," said one of the younger and brasher male partners. Claire caught her breath.

"Lead us where? Let's face it, Jim Patterson was secretive in his operations. My worry is that it may do our reputation no good," a young female solicitor said contemptuously.

Claire was intensely grateful for this intervention as she'd half believed Jim Patterson's myths of popularity as no one had dared speak out against him. A murmur of assent ran round the group.

"Suppose you suggest what we do about his cases. You've been around longer than some of us," she continued emboldened by the way her suggestion had been received.

"We'll go into the tea room and divvy up the cases I've got here for a start. I'm sure we'll all get along," Claire suggested in her mild mannered way. She smiled at herself as she was starting to take control of the situation as she never had before and realising to her surprise that she was respected. She thought back to the days when she had shared a flat with her old friend Helen Stewart who bossed her around in her caring fashion and how she had naturally followed.


	31. Chapter 31

When Selena made her way to the Prison Officer's room where she had been summoned from library duty, she was pretty sure she would be interrogated about her relationship with Kris Yates. She'd sought allocation as personal officer and got it because no one wanted charge of such a stroppy troublemaker and that had screened her relationship while she was counselling her to appeal her sentence. Deny everything, she resolved. They wouldn't have any hard evidence, only bitchy gossip, probably from Natalie Buxton. Sure enough, as she entered the glass panelled room, complete with easy chairs, files and stale cigarette smoke, she saw Bodybag seated, a malevolent scowl on her face.

"It's about time, madam, that we had a talk. I've been hearing stories about your inappropriate behaviour."

"What inappropriate behaviour?" Selena said with a suitably blank expression on her face.

"You and Ms Yates. There are rumours about you being lesbians," Bodybag said, her tone of voice expressing physical distaste in the last word.

"I'm gay, sure enough. I've made no secret of it. I prefer a bit of posh though."

"And Ms Yates? Her getup isn't conventional is it. You must both have a lot to talk about in your one to one conversations."

"Sure she's gay. I have a lot to talk to her about problems she's got with her mother who hates her guts even if she'd been accused of taking out her drunk of a husband. Her daughter Milly is being caught in the crossfire at home and I'm getting her to appeal her sentence. There's plenty to discuss privately. So who's been slagging me off behind my back?"

Bodybag was visibly discomforted by the younger woman's complete self-assurance and lack of guilty hesitation. Her eyes swivelled round warily for a way of losing face. Ingrained instincts in contemptuously dismissing a con's word for something as against a prison officer didn't help much.

"I want you to know that I'll be watching out for you. Your card is marked, that's all," she said sternly.

"I don't see your problem. What have I got to hide," Selena answered with cool nonchalance.

Just then Bodybag's mobile started to beep. As she answered it, her face morphed from sternly disciplinarian to guiltily ingratiating as she answered the caller. Selena guessed it was Lou Stoke.

"But how was I to know that things could happen so quickly. After all, madam is always harping about how independent she is so a few minutes wouldn't harm. I'll come to your office straightaway."

This told Selena that Kristine had hit trouble as soon as her back was turned. A little while later, she saw Colin Hedges coming her way from the Wing Governor's office. He gave a sideways nod of his head in the direction of the Prison Officer's room and, sure enough, Colin spilled the beans. She could hardly believe what her ears were telling her and they both cursed their fate in having a useless Principal Officer who should have been put out to pasture ages ago.

As George stubbed out a cigarette in her office, it crossed her mind that, undercover or not, her friend Kristine would be undergoing a two week sudden drop in her living standards to the equivalent of a bed, breakfast and evening meal in some squalid barracks doling out a pittance. The obvious answer came to her to visit her friend and take in a few packets of cigarettes. Her first thought was that phoning up the fearsomely mythical Larkhall Prison as described to her by Nikki and Helen but tracking down the phone number on the internet wasn't easy after bypassing the usual tedious rubbish of mission statements and the like. Ten minutes later, a suddenly pale and sweating Di Barker was on the receiving end of a forceful female barrister with a deadly aristocratic assurance who was going to get her way. So it was that George found herself driving her sleek convertible on an unexpectedly sunny March day heading for Larkhall Prison.

As the days rolled along, Kristine endured the strange mixture of lurking danger and tedious boredom that made her feel as if her brain had turned to cotton wool. This form of life felt as it it was going on forever. One form of relief were conversations with Pat Kerrigan amongst others. The dark-haired woman had concluded that Kristine was all right, which was the equivalent of lavish praise by anyone else. Kristine knew this woman was sharp and observant and was to be respected quite aside from willingly taking on her job as minder. Today, the weather had turned sunny and bracing so that they descended the stone flight of steps to the courtyard for association which gave everyone space and fresh air. She clicked her way along the concrete slabs to a corner near the garden area to sit out the break. All around them, women were skylarking happily, the sounds of happy voices being a form of music for the soul.

"Still don't know how you're learning to get your way around Kristine. I wouldn't have a hope in hell, not being able to see." The way Pat spoke might have sounded surly and offhand to a casual observer but Kristine knew better.

"I hate being dependent on anyone, even friends. I've worked hard to build up my map so my main need is for a minder."

"Makes sense to me...What do you reckon to our guitar strumming heroine?" Pat replied as she was interested in picking her friend's brain. The even sounds of guitar strings and a female voice might have sounded sweet if it weren't for its owner. There she was, sitting on the grass next to a woman who was obviously smitten on her.

"She's no harm compared to Buxton but I'd sooner keep her at arm's length as I don't trust her," Kristine replied shortly. Pat was going to nod her head in agreement till she realised her mistake.

"And to make it worse, here they come- in our direction," Pat said tersely. She operated by gut instinct and the woman leading the way towards them was a walking contradiction. Her leather jacket and jeans talked tough but her manner was soft and persuasive. Pat didn't like it. Memories of being pumped full of tranquillizers in the teens she spent in a children's home prejudiced her against this drugs baroness as she squinted at her.

"Hi you guys," Mel called out in her sociable manner. "Mind if we join you and keep out of Buxton's way."

"I don't want to talk about her. Makes her sound more important than she is, especially the first day we've been let out in ages," Pat retorted irritably enough, Kristine alone picking up on the shaft of wisdom.

"I really am scared every time I go to the landing wash-room. I could get done over so easily," said Mel's companion in a shaky voice. Pat rolled up her eyes in despair.

"You think you've got problems," interjected Kristine harshly. "Yesterday I ended up slapping Ashleigh who caught me on my own in the library and hit me. It doesn't take rocket science to look out for trouble from Buxton."

"Oh I say," Mel answered, her voice sounding sympathetic. "I'm sorry for you. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

Pat was shaken by her friend's reckless nerve which was more than she'd expected and still; more that her friend hadn't told her last night. She didn't take offence at her friend's independent nature as who was she to talk but she was alarmed for her sake. She looked at Mel and thought, bullshit. Mel Bridges has her own agenda which involves shagging Miss Innocent and staying out of trouble. Kristine read Pat's thoughts and agreed.

"We'll be wandering off, admiring nature," Mel said, making her excuses in leaving as she sensed that the atmosphere wasn't entirely welcoming. They nonchalantly wandered away, holding hands.

"I won't let you out of my sight. That was the deal," hissed Pat under her breath. It put Kristine in two minds. She hated being looked out for and being dependent on somebody else but she was grateful for her friend's kindness and commitment. On a grim practical level, she knew she needed protection.

As George veered off her normal beaten track, she noticed that the roads she drove along, the houses that she passed were shabby, down at heel more than she was used to. She'd come a long way from the sleek shop frontages of Oxford Street. It started to occur to her that her mental images of Larkhall Prison were of some mythic Victorian pile such that she'd seen when watching in passing some Dickensian melodrama of poverty versus riches. She realised that she'd be briefly immersing herself into its reality and, for a moment it frightened her. Then again, she knew that her friend Kristine was voluntarily imprisoned for two weeks. She owed it to herself to be strong, she resolved, as she jammed her foot on the brakes as some inconvenient red traffic light jumped out in front of her. She swore loudly and felt all the better for it.

As she drew into the side-street, she saw the ominous grey castle blocks and a stout wall enclosing them with a solid set of wooden doors. She swung her convertible to a halt and carefully locked it. She made her way to the entrance door, dressed in her usual smart dark suit and handbag and resolved to rein in her imperious nature, not wanting to make life harder for her friend.

"My name is George Channing. I phoned up earlier today about my visit to a prisoner on remand, Kristine Thorne," she said in pleasant tones to the stolid prison officer behind the opened window.

"Have you some kind of identification, ma'am?" Kevin asked, trying not altogether successfully to conceal his bewilderment at the airs and graces of this very atypical lady visitor. George produced her driving licence with a dazzling smile and she walked into the courtyard. Immediately, she was struck by the oppressive feel of towering walls on all sides, reaching halfway to the sky. It was intimidating.

Putting her best foot forward, she followed the signs to the visitor's room, the foyer of which felt dingy and sweaty. To make it worse, a grim-faced prison officer searched her handbag and quickly frisked her. Biting her tongue, she emerged into a dimly lit room with a cheap vending machine in the corner and rows of screwed down Formica tables. Behind each one, a woman wearing a uniform red bib. Her eyes picked out Kristine, her white stick leaning against her table. George called out her friend's name and well- meaningfully waved her arm vigorously.

"Visitors are not to speak unless and until spoken to," intoned the loud authoritative voice to the side of her. George turned round with icy contempt at seeing this plump woman with an ugly scowl on her face and the manner of an officious traffic warden about to hand out a ticket. Jobsworth personified, thought George, this must be Bodybag.

"Can't you see that Kristine Thorne is blind or is that too much to expect?" she retorted with her iciest sarcasm drawing a suppressed grin from the fair haired attractive prison officer to the side of her as she walked boldly forwards. Bodybag turned red with fury but said nothing.

"Only you, George, could make an entrance like this," Kristine said tenderly, entranced by the way her friend scorched that loathsome woman with such disdain. It brought home to her how much she'd had to necessarily compromise to remain true to her mission but it didn't hurt her. It was lovely to see her again.

"Knowing that your nicotine addiction is as bad as mine, I also brought in a couple of packets of cigarettes," George said softly.

"That's really kind of you," answered Kristine, feeling the familiar shapes placed against her hand. "I wanted to ask you how my court case is going on or dare I ask?"

For a second, George was nonplussed at such a question and then she caught on. She improvised her script without missing a beat.

"I'm afraid I don't really know. The police and courts are a law unto themselves. I'll chase up your solicitor if you want but that's the best I can do. What I came for was to ask how they are treating you. Your friends are obviously batting for you but I wanted to see for myself." George replied with an admirably crafted appearance of concern that Kristine gave full marks for.

Meanwhile, Bodybag scowled at the two women suspiciously while Selena went a little weak at the knees at George's classic beauty. This woman was a real looker and her gaydar was registering loud and clear even if Bodybag's obviously wasn't.

During her short visit, George had the chance to glance at the other prisoners, their constrained intimacy given the orange plastic table between them, the eyes of surveillance trained upon them in the uniforms on duty. The fair-haired woman marvelled at her friend's perseverance in sticking out two weeks here. They chatted in inconsequential tones about a fictional existence that was the part Kristine played with the obvious meaning of see you on the outside. George had mixed feelings when the call went up for the end of visiting.


	32. Chapter 32

In the locker room of St Mary's Hospital, Karen put on her new dark blue uniform with a sense of satisfaction as it denoted her promotion to junior sister. This was more of a step up than the job title suggested as, on the face of it, she hadn't been at St Mary's all that long. She'd started work at St Mary's in January 2002 after doing agency work for them the previous November and here she was on March 21st 2003, one rung up the ladder already. She was too modest to consider that her previous fifteen years as a nurse had come into its own and had been built upon and sharp eyes had picked upon her added abilities from her time in the prison service. In her quiet way, she had demonstrated a mixture of cool-headed practicality and a caring attitude that was totally natural to her.

She fished the job description out of her locker and here it was, her new duties and responsibilities written out in black and white.

 **"** Junior Sister; - responsible for the day-to-day running of the ward, and may also carry specific responsibilities for the overall running of the ward (e.g., rostering) in accordance with the wishes of the ward manager."

Well, I've had to contend with my share of life's challenges, Karen thought to herself, meditating on the way that Larkhall Prison had brought upon her career success, revealed her vulnerability to the worst instance of a smooth talking bastard in the name of Jim Fenner who had conspired to get her charged for a criminal hit and run accident that had precipitated an extended whisky binge until her friends had saved her bacon and introduced her to the true love of her life, Beth Pritchard and a degree of peace of mind she had never thought possible when she was younger. If only Sylvia Hollamby, for one, could see her now and may the bile in her throat choke her.

"That's the most inevitable promotion I've ever seen," commented Chrissie Williams from behind her, breaking into her ruminations in a pleasant fashion. She turned round to see her friend with a warm grin on her face that spoke volumes of the deep trust between the two women.

"You think so? Guess I've got a lot to live up to," Karen found herself saying in a self-deprecating fashion.

"Do everything your way Karen. You're a natural. You've worked hard enough and, in any case, the nurses follow your lead already," Chrissie said softly and tenderly, dropping her normal flip manner.

"Thank you. I'll remember that," Karen said, visibly moved. She knew that her friend respected her but not to this extent. She was also very kindly and maturely giving her the freedom to carry out the job she'd performed for years without being possessive about it. Living in Chrissie's shadow wasn't going to be part of the job description.

"Your new uniform will be an eyeful for your girlfriend. They have that kind of effect or so I hear," Chrissie said cheerily.

"I'll try that. I'm not averse to something a little exotic. Do you know that I know many women who would fancy the pants off you," Karen retorted with a mischievous change of subject.

"I'm really sorry Chrissie," she added a few seconds later as an expression of alarm and horror spread across the other woman's face. "That was an extremely stupid thing to say."

"For a moment, I was getting worried," Chrissie said with an attempt at nonchalance. She instantly forgave her friend, realising that the company she mixed with out of work might make jokes like that. She realised that she'd been so used to the version of her friend in works hours.

"It goes without saying that you don't have to worry on my account. Beth keeps me very well satisfied, I can tell you."

"You're lucky. I'm still looking for the perfect man, more fool me," Chrissie confessed a little bitterly, not at all jealous of her friend's good fortune.

"In the meantime, we're mates, right. I'd be very grateful to learn the tricks of the trade for when I take over your job," Karen said kindly.

"Rule number one. Don't let arrogant registrars boss you about. We'll spend the day talking you through my old job as you'll have learnt it by then," Chrissie said, grinning freely back at her. Karen was conscientious, totally reliable and straight down the line with her.

In the wide open spaces of the public car park which Chrissie and Karen could view if they chose to while they chatted, a smart silver Ford Corsa was pulling into the car park. The man who drove it was dressed in neat dark trousers, a white open necked shirt and a contrasting sports jacket. For some reason, he had an aversion to his habitual strip of cloth wound round in a knot and slid through a loop to hang in front of him. It conveyed unpleasant associations of the past, of the man he used to be. The man's car wasn't a monument of gleaming metal and a obsessive creation of perfection either. He breathed the mild spring air into and out of his lungs as he had got himself to his appointment on time and had a few moments of reflection time. The expression on his face was calm and placid where once it was stern with a furrowed brow. He had no authoritative position to uphold, he was out of it.

He made his way to the outpatient's entrance at a relaxed stroll, less tense than he used to be. His name was Sir Ian Rochester and he was approaching his therapy session with more of a sense of comfort than he used to feel. Right at the start of the sessions, he was desperately down and out, emotionally speaking, but still clinging to the knotted emotional ties of emotional denial and not letting the side down that had led to his career and power. He had thought that his principles were his last resort and now he had come to recognise the stranglehold they had imposed on him. It was not too late to change and now he was free of his past. He had all the time in the world and he now wondered how he'd crammed so much into what now seemed a manic carnival of illusion.

He strolled into the busy reception area where people of all ages and backgrounds foregathered on orange plastic seats and he smiled all around him. They roused his idle curiosity and he retrieved a child's ball as it rolled past him and gave it back to the mother. Once, he would have instantly and coldly dismissed them as not worthy of his attention but here they were all, all washed up like human flotsam waiting for their appointments. They all had life's stories to tell after all.

"I'm very sorry but the appointment before you is running late. I'll call you when we're ready."

"That's all right,"Sir Ian answered in easy tones, smiling back at the polite young woman. "I expect he's a busy man." The nurse gave him an appreciative look. How this man had changed in the months he'd been coming here. To begin with he seemed black and scowling at having to wait, shrunk into himself like a tortoise within its shell. She saw the man start to engage in conversation with the mother without thinking twice about it as she glanced at her computer screen. Today was a full house and no mistake.

"I've just had a letter to say I'm being medically retired with effect from May 29th," he said to his psychiatrist without any preamble as he lay down on the couch. He looked at the expression on Sir Ian's face. The utter lack of regret about finally casting loose his past was genuine. Psychologically, he knew it was the right thing to do.

"So you're saying goodbye to all that. Is there anyone from your past that you have unfinished business with?"

Sir Ian's eyes glazed over as he started to reflect on his past. It was surprisingly easy. a whole army of grey-suited men of various ages appeared out of the mists of time, some attempting a pale attempt towards the flared trousers and kipper ties of his youth. Amongst them were a sprinkling of women, for example the useful female press contact, complete with white trouser suit who he could now realise was as cold and hard as the rest of them. Right on the fringes were the members of the legal profession some of whom had their proper sense of career advancement despite their idiosyncrasies. Right on the fringes were Jo Mills, never a friend of his and George Channing who viewed him with icy contempt. The sight of her father Joseph Channing saddened him as their shared sense of bonhomie gave way to opposition. They might have remained friends. Right now, he could see why they took their position that they did as he didn't like the murmurous sounds of assured conversation, including his own. Tears started to spring to his eyes and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. Old habits died hard. Last of all, John deed came out of the shadows with his clear, unflinching blue eyes and kindly voice. He of all people had seen him at his most vulnerable when he found him sitting in a lonely park, last November, the day he cracked up.

"There's one person I want to see again, John Deed. I thought him once my greatest enemy but perhaps I was wrong about that as well as everything else.

"You think it will help you." Sir Ian's ears were attuned to the slightest nuance of doubt and questioning and, on finding none there, he reached for something within himself that wasn't fact, wasn't something that he'd read or heard about but was a truth within himself. It made him feel a little nervous and excited at the same time that he was venturing into new ways of experiencing the world about him.

"I know it. I feel it inside," Sir Ian said, naming that wordless feeling with confidence.

"Then go for it Ian," the psychiatrist said with calm assurance. The other man felt unnaturally calm in this stark white room with the overhead light shining into his eyes. He felt dreamy and content.

"Have you given any thought for the future in practical terms," the psychiatrist asked right at the end of the session.

"I feel like doing something where there is no career advancement, that I do something for the love of doing it. It sounds a complete turnabout for an ex-civil servant. Something to do with charity, I think- if they'll have me."

There it was. His mind was made up.

As Karen went out on the ward the following day, she knew that her promotion would put her into more direct conflict with her arch enemy Jac Naylor. While the surgeon was undoubtedly talented, she had an ego and ambition the size of Alaska and treated nurses as domestic skivvies at her beck and call, if assisting at operations and otherwise as nameless drudges. She was ready and willing to help sort out staffing rosters under Chrissie's friendly eye knowing from her days at Larkhall Prison that she would take to it like a duck to water.

"You what? I have an urgent operation due in half an hour. I would have thought you could pull your finger out and rustle up a couple of nurses," Jac interrupted Karen's bad news with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

"I know how many of my staff are trained up as scrub nurses and what you want can't be done with the sicknesses today. I'm not poaching the wards and leaving not enough staff to go round," came Karen's rejoinder, knowing the facts of the case.

"Working to rule eh? I suppose it was only a matter of time before you became a jobsworth union man, part of the union and all that," sneered Jac which made the other woman's blood boil.

"I've worked this game from both ends of the spectrum, Jac Naylor from any menial job you care to name to running a prison wing. That means taking responsibility. If you still disagree with my judgement, I'll call in Chrissie if you want but you and I know what she'll say," cut back Karen, squaring up to this unpleasant woman.

"Hiding behind mother's skirts?" Jac jabbed back, becoming vicious in the face of more forceful defiance than she had expected.

"I know you're trying it on as I'm new to this particular game. Just don't push it," glared Karen, anger emanating from her as she hated this woman with as much fury as she had come to hate Fenner. She longed to ask her how many years ago she had last got laid as that might be something to do with her attitude but knew that she'd be going too far.

For the first time, Jac saw the full extent of Karen's toughness. Her bluff had been called. She gave a little toss of her head as she strode away from the confrontation. In the meantime Karen found that her hand was slightly shaking but she caught Jane's respectful glance as she passed and knew that she'd done right by everyone.

Kristine hadn't liked the sound of Kevin Spiers from the very start of her stay in Larkhall prison. Di Barker and Bodybag were both venomous but ineffective but Spiers was a lot smarter. She had the advantage of others as she focussed in on his hard dry voice which grated on her like the sound of fingernails scratching a blackboard. Within his intonations, she read him as a sexual predator. Fortunately, Pat Kerrigan had seen through his opportunism and watched him with a suspicious eye.

"You and me make a pretty good team," Natalie Buxton said, laying it on thick with her best lipsticked smile after their quickie sex session in her cell.

"I am your personal officer, here to see to your needs," Spiers said in his oiliest tones after his breathing had returned to normal. He slid out of the woman who had been ripe for the taking, stood up and zipped himself up. Buxton reckoned rightly that this was the moment when this creep would be at his most amenable, when he had got his rocks off against her.

"Of course, that stuck-up blind bitch needs taking down a peg or two only you'll be better at it than me to give her something she'll remember. After all, she's had it coming to her."

"Only if you find a way of keeping her minders off her back so it won't come back on me. That way, it's her word as a con against mine as a prison officer. Even Stoke can't play favourites," Spiers said with a hard grin. He was feeling pretty good right now. He had managed to smooch himself up to Joy Masterton whose army spit and polish attitude might have suggested that she wasn't into men. Instead, she doted on him fondly as if he were a wayward son of hers who couldn't resist his roguish ways. It was that which enabled him to get his promotion to Senior Officer and his liaison with Natalie Buxton meant that rank had its perks- at least in his eyes.

It was the evening of Friday March 21st 2003 and stray thoughts fluttering at the back of Kristine's mind were now starting to mentally mark off the number of days until her release on Monday. Up till then, she hadn't dared do that as she had had to throw herself totally into her role as prisoner to carry it off convincingly. On a stray whim, she took herself back to her cell. She had gradually found this communal life being on top of everyone, friends and enemies alike, all too much for her head.

"You're sure you'll be all right?" Pat asked solicitously as she understood how an educated woman might seek isolation even if she was going to get her release. The other woman smiled gratefully at Pat's kindness and tapped her way back to her cell, a route she knew like the back of her hand. Instantly, the combined cunning of Buxton and Spiers saw their chance. They allowed precisely the right amount of time for the other woman to get back to her cell and for Spiers to slide off discreetly, knowing that Di Barker was too dim to know differently.

"Aren't you going to see to your new girlfriend? She's not exactly Miss World but everyone knows how you've got weird tastes," taunted Natalie Buxton in jeering tones.

Pat Kerrigan put down her knife and fork and turned red with anger. She admired Kristine Thorne for her independence, enjoyed intelligent conversation with her and and, yes she was attracted to her. She admired her also for embarking on an errand she'd never have done in a month of Sundays, especially as she was blind and this secret knowledge made her feel insecure and robbed her of her fluidity of thought. She was blind to everything except hating this bitch.

"So what if I am? Even if you weren't an evil cow, you're so stupid. A typical Sun reader," Pat Kerrigan shot back. This exchange got everyone fired up and Ashleigh joined in this bit of baiting while Di Barker tried her ineffectual best to restore order. Buxton grinned evilly to herself. Things were nicely hotting up.

Very unusually, Kristine didn't hear the very faint tread along the corridor and an opening cell door as a surge of emotion welled up inside her that, if only she wasn't locked up, she could be enjoying the thoroughly satisfying life of an independent career woman with the pick of man or woman with which she could satisfy herself. She was missing Jules like crazy and felt as if a limb had been amputated in being separated from her computer. It was at this moment that a loathed voice broke in on her thoughts. Immediately, she bitterly regretted her foolhardiness and knew this spelt trouble.

"You look down Kristine. You could do with a little cheering up, a bit of fun and games."

"It's all right. I'd sooner be on my own," Kristine replied politely, hating herself for her inability to get rid of this bastard with a few well chosen scorching words as was her habit.

"I recognise the signs. Every new prisoner goes through this after the first week," pursued Spiers, his pretend understanding not concealing the leer in his voice.

"You've got the wrong idea. The last thing I want is you around. I'm into women," Kristine protested, half telling the truth. This man was stupid and pitiful in his chat up lines when compared with John Deed.

"You don't have to like it. After all, if you've got the wrong idea about sex, I can easily put it right," insisted Spiers in steel hard tones.

The fool, Kristine stormed inwardly. Does he really think that sexual experience is all about finding the right replacement part. Unfortunately, he was a strong fool and Kristine's lack of certainty that she would get away with giving him a good slap like she had given Ashleigh, started turning her anger to panic. Already, institutionalisation was creeping in on her, she thought bitterly as she felt the man roughly touch her tits. At that point, she let out a loud yell.

To her intense relief, feet clattered loudly and rapidly down the corridor as Spiers reeled back and the door was flung open. Friend or foe, asked Kristine desperately.

"What the hell are you doing Spiers?" shouted Colin Hedges angrily, grabbing the other man and throwing him up against the wall.

"It was really nothing Colin. I tried to help and she got the wrong impression," Spiers answered in shaky tones, trying to smooth over the situation.

"He's lying," shouted Kristine, red in the face and shaking with anger."You can tell it a mile away."

"And how's that?" Colin asked respectfully. He had gained respect for this woman pretty quickly.

"Because his lips move. He's just a sleazy petty rapist with the gall to think he's Prince Charming when he's just a boy pretending to be a man," Kristine shouted, shaking with fury at being violated and angry at needing help. The one thing she hadn't said to really do down her self image was to say 'unhand me, varmint' like in some trashy historical novel. The only comfort she drew was that her words had cut this man like a whiplash and Colin Hedges passed a glance of recognition and would do something about it rather than pulling regulations on her. In the meantime, Pat Kerrigan heard the call for help, broke off from the argument she was having with Buxton and clattered along the corridor to help. When she burst through the door, in a split second she knew everything.

"What the frigging hell has been happening?" she asked belligerently, glaring around belligerently. Spiers was tight-faced, saying nothing and this sealed his guilt in her eyes.

"I'm taking Spiers to see the governor, Lou Stoke. Can you look after Kristine?" Colin replied in decisive tones as he held the other man by the shoulder.

"Sure," Pat said in quiet tones. She put her arms gently around the other woman with surprising tenderness for such a tough woman, the Julies and Denny starting to crowd in and offer sympathy. Colin was pleased to be able to attend to his most pressing duty and the women respectfully made space for him as much was possible in the cramped cell.


	33. Chapter 33

Far away from the edgy confinement and lurking danger in Larkhall Prison, Sally-Anne and Trisha lay in their luxury double bed in their flat on a late Friday morning. They felt they'd deserved it as night after night, they stoked the party atmosphere and were different from the nine to five office people. It was Friday and they'd cruised their way through the quiet nights of their club. The long established couples stayed in at home in domestic bliss and only on Fridays and Saturdays, they dressed up to the nines to chat with their friends, and drink and dance the night away. Otherwise, a generally younger crowd predominated as they were out on the pull and they kept the club DJ on her toes in supplying the latest sounds. Over the years, the club had kept up its solid reputation as a hangout for lesbians of all ages and stripes to be themselves. In that way, they'd avoided pursuing any temporary trends and sub niche markets and end up in a blind alley. Its inclusive reputation ensured that their word of mouth reputation and judicious advertising kept them ahead of the game. Most of all, they never forgot the women whose early loyalty had put them where they were and neither did their central core of friends ever forget them.

It was in such a state of lazy contentment that Trisha opened a sleepy eye with the delicious feeling that she needn't hurry as she lay on her stomach, one arm outstretched. A still more gorgeous awareness was spreading through her system of a woman's soft sweet smelling body moving along her back, soft kisses being laid on her shoulders and arms wrapping themselves round her body. This must only be Sally-Anne's sexuality lazily asserting herself a minute or two ahead of her own even at this time in the morning. She softly stroked her lover's forearm to acknowledge her own feelings waking up inside her.

"Mmmm, I love your way of saying good morning babes," Trisha murmured into the pillow. Already, Sally-Anne's body was flexing slightly as what had started as a half-conscious instinct woke up to become desire. She could never keep her hands off her lover's naked body as she looked statuesque and adorable and had brought so much happiness to her life. Right now, she continued to kiss and caress her lover until finally, Trisha twisted over in bed and greedily brought her down to her open mouth.

"You really like early morning sex, don't you," Trisha said at last when they broke surface. The dark-haired woman moved a little above her to straddle her lover and look down on her with a broad smile on her lips. She looked incredibly sexy and glowing, just waiting to take her.

"I'm a practical woman. When we've finally get to bed after running the club and being life and soul of the party, we're both too knackered and need our beauty sleep. I get the urge when I feel like it and not according to some timetable," Sally-Anne replied in an insouciant manner. She softly stroked Trisha's fair hair and shoulders and these ministrations did the trick in persuading Trisha that they weren't too tired to take their pleasures.

"In that case, I'm all yours babes," Trisha said with a delighted smile on her face, opening her arms in welcoming invitation. She's a lovely kisser, the fair-haired woman thought as the other woman's soft lips lightly brushed her own, once, twice and then slipping her tongue deep inside her mouth. She loved the start of Sally-Anne having her wicked way with her and knew the delicate organ that her lover would get round to licking.

A little while later, the two of them were having a light salad meal in the relative calm before their mental clock clicked into gear to psych them up to organise for the usual busy Friday night. It was a time of quiet contemplation and this enabled ideas that had lurked in the depths of Sally-Anne's mind to break surface.

"I was thinking about the other day when we saw Nikki, Helen in hospital. Their baby looked really cute."

For the first time in a long time, Sally-Anne found herself blushing, fearing that the words that had escaped randomly out of her mouth was incredibly naff. Trisha smiled warmly and laid her hand on her partner's forearm. It reminded her of how her lover had been when she had nervously accepted her invitation to move in with her when she had been in the grip of tranquilliser addiction after she'd driven out of the police force by the crowd of misogynists, the chief of whom had raped her. You've come so far since then. I'd forgotten those days, Trisha thought fondly during the pause for thought.

"I did wonder if some of us were going to get broody. The three of them looked a picture, I must admit," she said softly. Sally-Anne smiled gratefully back at her partner's generous understanding. This gave Trisha confidence to carry on.

"I got very emotional seeing our dearest friends at the hospital after all they've gone through. They looked so happy. It made a dent in my long held feelings that I was the most unmaternal woman imaginable but I wouldn't want what Nikki and Helen have as a full time responsibility. I'd sooner stick to being one of Rose's aunties and we can make as much of it as we want to. I'm too selfish to share my love and affection for you with a baby, dreadful though it sounds. Enough of me. How do you really feel about the whole thing?"

Trisha had spoken softly and thoughtfully and her blue eyes glinted in the sunshine. By being sweetly reasonable, she eased Sally-Anne into being able to verbalise her own feelings.

"That's just it Trisha. These feelings came out of nowhere. I don't know if its a crazy biological alarm clock talking to me or if it's my mother's upbringing waking up to strange life after I thought I'd dealt with it since we started living together," Sally-Anne answered, laughing shakily.

This was the first time she'd talked about her family, the sharp-eyed Trisha thought. This has to come out. Sally-Anne intercepted the thought with the practised ease of close intimacy even if she was stressed with the knowledge that Trisha was on her side, no matter what.

"Tell me all darling," she said softly.

"The biological clock is a load of bollocks if I'm not in the race to begin with. Getting my feelings straight is something else," Sally Anne started to say, her features being particularly clear and sharp in her lover's eyes. She gave her time to think and speak without saying anything. It was not necessary..

"I grew up under the shadow of my socialite mother and my show-off older sister. I was the quiet and shy one. I used to stay in while my sister was out dancing with one or other boyfriend and she kept pushing me to be more like my sister. I used to have a special friend I could talk to," Sally Anne said dreamily as she was reliving her past.

"That's an old line that many lesbians used to keep interfering pa\rents off the trail," interjected Trisha and her partner smiled with their shared knowledge of their customers.

"In my case, it was innocent. I was nervous of men who thought I was unapproachable and I never even thought of liking women instead. Growing up wasn't easy."

"So why did you join the police force?" Trisha asked. She'd often wondered about the matter without getting round to asking as it seemed such an alien institution.

"The long hours got me away from my family and I really thought that people in uniform behaved correctly so therefore I was safe. It shows how wrong I could be," Sally Anne said with intense feeling. Trisha reached out and squeezed her lover's hand in sympathy, feeling the exact same sympathy when she'd first seen Sally-Anne bravely testifying in

court at Nikki's first appeal that she'd been raped by DC Gossard. The words brought back to her when they'd first met and how their relationship had flowered and evolved over the years. She knew that Sally-Anne was feeling the same by the return pressure of her hand.

"So where in your upbringing did you come across the idea that it was inevitable for women to have babies?" pursued Trisha with the utmost gentleness and care in choosing her words.

"My mother kept dinning it into me in various ways before I was ever ready to consider any form of relationship. I didn't appreciate how much of it sunk into my subconscious but now I can see it for what it is, I want us to be aunts together and grow old together." For the first time since the discussion started, sally Anne spoke with luminous certainty. Trisha reached under the table with her free hand and stroked her lover's knee. She wished the dining table wasn't in their way but that you'd be dealt with, to borrow her lover's favourite saying.

John Deed picked up his phone in his chambers one sunny Friday afternoon just when he was set to preview the next trial case with a patient sigh, having promised himself a period of quiet study and, to his astonishment, a voice long disused to his ear greeted him and activated his habitual defensiveness.

"It's Sir Ian. I was wondering if it would be convenient to have a private conversation with you?"

"So what's it about this time? What latest piece of skulduggery are you up to?" John retorted, letting a trace of anger seep into his voice. He thought he knew what was coming.

"John, I'm being medically retired from the civil service. I've been off work ever since the day we met in the park last November and you kindly sought to help me. In a month or so, I'll have severed all connection with the LCD except for my pension. The chat I have in mind is entirely personal and has been overdue for a long, long time," Sir Ian urged, softening his voice.

This is an entirely different Sir Ian, John concluded, reorienting his thoughts at lightning speed. The resonances were all different. Instinct made John accept his offer to come to the digs.

"If you don't mind the company of a dog I'm presently dog-sitting, you would be very welcome to come, Sir Ian," John said softly. The answer made Sir Ian laugh.

"In addition to Mimi?" Sir Ian questioned with mild curiosity.

"It's for a friend of mine. His name is Jules. Don't ask for the reasons," John said in imperturbable tones. Secretly, he was a little worried that, right at the end of his peaceful two weeks assisting Kristine's clandestine operation, Sir Ian of all people was going to drop in on him and socialise.

"I shall be the soul of discretion. I have no one to report to any more or to be reported to," Sir Ian, reminding himself that his professional curiosity was a thing of the past. It did the trick and John resolved to go with the flow of things.

In Jules's canine mind, he had adapted to his surroundings as philosophically as he could do so. He had come to the conclusion that his mistress had gone to the human equivalent of the vet and that sooner or later, she would be back. He daren't think that she had gone away to be put down- that was an impossible nightmare. He therefore did his best to deal with the matter from day to day and Mimi helped him learn the rules of the new house. He found that there was one compensation and that was going with Mimi to the court building and he picked up on his temporary master's sense of self importance when other humans related to him by behaving likewise. He had no shame in receiving reflected glory and, especially, in taking his place under the judge's throne and staring disdainfully down his nose at the humans beneath him. It made him feel as superior as the judge obviously felt and he was definitely the ultra leader of the human pack that surrounded him. He and Mimi were also made a fuss of by that nice woman called Coope and both of them were introduced to humans some of whom amused him by being nervous of him and others who made a fuss of him. Best of all, he found the judge a total pushover when it came to exacting advantages a bit at a time and his choice of goodies were definitely on the canine gourmet list. He and Mimi made a good double act in appearing at their most cute and appealing and were being outrageously spoiled. These thoughts helped buoy him up and helped him forget his loss of status as a working dog and being reduced to his status as a mere pet. He knew that if and when his mistress came back to him, she would tighten up on his lax behaviour though he might take time forgiving him for deserting him. He came back to his new home and all at once, a stranger came to visit his temporary master. To his superior senses, this human gave off mixed messages of being nervous and wishing to be friendly. He took his cue from Mimi to see how this encounter might develop. The other dog, sitting the other side of John had pricked up her ears and both looked questioningly at the leader of the pack for guidance and if he'd curtly refused the offer of friendship, their growls would have been the prelude to noisily and threateningly seeing the enemy off their territory, minus the seat of his trousers.

The first thing John noticed about Sir Ian as he entered the restaurant area was his open necked white shirt and his relaxed body language. He wasn't acting as if he owned the place and he greeted John with an easy smile who accepted his outstretched hand.

"It's really good to see you again, John," Sir Ian said, meaning every word.

"It's nice to see you as well. Say hello to my friends as well, Ian," John replied guilelessly.

The man raised his eyebrows at such a request, figured out that the unusual was expected of John and then reasoned that this request was not unreasonable and certainly more palatable that seeing former acquaintances. He opted to act naturally and shyly asked what their names were. He tentatively stroked them and both dogs figured out that this human wasn't used to dogs but was making an effort so they behaved graciously.

"Have I passed the test John," Sir Ian asked impulsively, a grin on his face.

"None was intended. I was sure you'd be congenial company before you made your appearance but I wasn't sure how relaxed you were about dogs. Up till now, neither of us have socialised outside business matters."

Sir Ian warmed to John's diplomatic way of handling the situation and smiled with understanding, waiting to follow John's lead.

"Do you wish to join me for dinner? I'm having Homity pie a vegetarian dish that Monty Everard swears by though it isn't Vera's cup of tea. The choice is entirely yours," John offered, passing the other man the menu.

"I put myself entirely in your hands John. I'll have the same and a nice cup of tea, milk and one sugar would be ideal," Sir Ian said warmly with no affectation. John decided that there was much to like in Sir Ian in his present incarnation.

As the butler came out with the food, he also brought two large bowls of Mimi's favourite for each dog, much to their satisfaction.

"How does work fare with you these days?" Sir Ian asked lightly enough.

"Not for the better in some respects. I suppose you know that Lawrence James has taken your place and has made himself insufferable in short order," John answered with deep feeling.

"The man's a fanatic. Deep down, I knew he was after my job and when my career started to go awry, he moved in for the kill. Still, I shouldn't be bitter. I'm not in the same game as him anymore. He'll be doubly encouraged to slide up the greasy pole of illusory success," Sir Ian said in his dispassionate way before adding "But I know what you're thinking," and his face flushing.

"It's not as you think Ian," John said softly and kindly in reflective tones. He could read the other man's thoughts and it crossed his mind that he was doing for this man what Nikki and Helen had done in the past for him. He hoped with all humility that he was up to their standards. "I've been as ambitious as the next man in furthering my career in my own idiosyncratic fashion though there have been occasions when I have not shone in my private life, believe me. Whatever arguments we've had in the past, I was always conscious that there was always a sense of shared background. The months since you've been gone have been an eye-opener."

The unexpected kindness and generosity in an area of their life which had embarrassed him the most caused a flood of emotion to break loose in Sir Ian and words came tumbling out of him.

"I should have said before that I'll be forever in your debt that time you talked to me in the park last November. Believe me, I've never been so close to committing suicide as that moment. If any of my work colleagues had been there instead of you, they would have carried on their way pretending they hadn't seen me."

Sir Ian sat back in his chair looking down at the tablecloth. He had been horribly afraid that he would burst into tears in front of John. It wasn't that he worried about what the other man would have thought of him. It was that crying was simply not done. His chest heaved as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"It was the natural thing for me to do. Anything else would have been out of the question," John answered simply.

It was at this moment that Sir Ian was saved by the bell. A faint whimpering sound broke into the conversations. Two pairs of bright eyes and two wagging tails told John that they'd been very good but they were so cute they needed being taken for a walk. John laughed at the latent way they were conspiring to get their own way.

"Do you want to have a walk round the grounds? You know I've absolutely committed myself to this and we won't get any peace until they get their way," John said lightly.

"Whatever happened to your sense of authority in court?" joked Sir Ian in a friendly fashion as this light-hearted moment got him back to normal.

"Argumentative barristers in court perhaps. Children and animals, no chance," replied John with a rueful grin. "We can carry on this conversation if you want."

"By all means," Sir Ian replied, aware of that a curiously old fashioned concept of a leisurely stroll would do him the world of good besides the sort of conversation he'd never had in years. At last, he could see what other people saw in the man.


	34. Chapter 34

Natalie Buxton was conscious that all eyes turned to her when she came into the canteen area first thing in the morning even if they hated her. For one thing, she had learned how to know what went on in Larkhall Prison sooner or later and her tongue was always dangerous even if she'd been dethroned as top dog. For another, she had her acolytes like Ashleigh and her accomplices in the drugs trade which she controlled. Access to illegal substances meant power and Buxton used this lever of power to the maximum so that dirty deeds committed in her name could be denied. Only the grouping round the Julies, Denny and Pat had been uncompromisingly hostile to Buxton and Kristine's swift alignment had ratcheted up the hostility level. She'd heard about Ashleigh's ignominious encounter and how Hedges had interrupted Kevin Spiers attempt at payback had backfired after which everything had gone quiet. This meant that Buxton figured out that she owed it to her self-image to settle accounts with that cow. If she wasn't a tough bitch, she was nothing and somehow that stuck up woman's lack of respect for her was a threat. She couldn't stand that thought as she scowled into the blue mug of lukewarm tea that she held in her hand after she'd eaten her sausage and egg. She saw the two love-birds, Mel Bridges and Carol Barnes walk in, virtually hand in hand with their neutral status and she snorted derisively. They didn't know it but she had enough preoccupations with her long time arch enemy, Pat Kerrigan, the new threat to her prestige, Kristine Thorne and keeping the drugs ring in order to be bothered with them. There was only so much hate possible to go round, even for Natalie Buxton.

The canteen was a collection of battered plastic tables set out in the approved grid and leaving it open for prisoners to decide who to socialise with. The clicking sounds of Kristine's white stick into the canteen was noticed in the PO room that overlooked the canteen. It reminded Lou Stoke of a point that was very much on her mind as she strolled into the PO room ready for the morning meeting. In the split seconds as the prison officers assumed their accustomed places and got comfortable, they waited expectantly for Lou who looked around at all the faces and she winced. To the far left was the self-assured Kevin Spiers, Senior Officer who had his own agenda in everything he handled. Lou was particularly aggrieved about the outcome of Colin Hedges' complaint that Spiers had tried to sexually assault Kristine Thorne. He'd secretly gone behind her back to Joy Masterton who had taken his smooth denials at face value and had overruled Lou's move to institute discipliner proceedings. Lou knew that either Selena or Colin Hedges could fit the role of Senior Officer with effortless ease except that Spiers' gift of the gab and his connections kept him where he was. He was assisted by the spiteful and neurotic Di Barker even though she was a liability as was Sylvia Hollamby whose every move was designed to drag the prison service back to the dark ages. Nevertheless, she stepped up to the mark and kept her primary concern till last.

"Selena has flagged up a real concern to me and that is her concern that the new prisoner Kristine Thorne is in real danger of being done over. I take very seriously the attempt made on her recently in the library as I'm sure that Buxton was at the bottom of it and she doesn't take kindly to failures," Lou said firmly, intercepting Colin Hedges' expression of protest that there was also danger closer to home.

"Aren't we making a mountain out of a molehill?" Bodybag interjected. This got Lou angry as she knew what was coming. "We're in danger of turning upside down the running of the prison to accommodate one prisoner."

"If you recall, some of the prisoners are taking on the bulk of the work, Pat Kerrigan her cell mate and others like the Julies, not underrating the close attention you've paid, Selena. Ordinarily, this would do the trick but we also have the perennial problem of Buxton who's looking for what she thinks is another easy victim."

"You must admit that Ms Thorne does sometimes ask for it. It's her superior attitude," Di Barker said in her coaxing tones. Colin Hedges was angered by the cunning way this bitch could make bigotry sound reasonable.

"I have not found any occasions to put her on Rule 47 in my dealings with her, speaking as her personal officer. If she has a fault, it's that she doesn't suffer fools gladly but given her independence of mind, is that really a problem?" Selena retorted in steely hard tones, feeling equally angered, facing down Bodybag's livid stare..

"Buxton's the trouble. We've known it for months. Put a lid on her scheming and we'll have cracked it," agreed Colin Hedges.

"My sentiments exactly. I reckon we make absolutely sure that Pat Kerrigan continues her work as minder and that it is taken account of in her sentence review and the first sign of any trouble, we jump on it with both feet. Our problem is that Buxton's been able to cover her tracks for way too long. It goes without saying that we have a duty of care to all prisoners and we should be up to dealing with all prisoners whatever their conditions, including blindness," Lou said in forceful tones, feeling the cut and thrust in this meeting go her way. She had the uneasy feeling that her words wouldn't actually change the situation much but felt she was obliged to make the effort.

"Doesn't Buxton need as much understanding as anyone?" Kevin Spiers said, with barefaced cheek, twisting Lou's liberal minded proposition back against her.

"The problem with Buxton isn't one of lack of understanding, Kevin. Buxton knows only too well that if we keep one step ahead of her schemes, she'll lie low. Give her an inch and she'll take a mile. I've had serious thoughts of ghosting her out in double quick time but any new prison would take months to learn the lessons we've learnt the hard way. You can't put this sort of stuff on paper and make it meaningful," Lou said with an icy contemptuous look at Spiers at which point he shut up.

"Special efforts," Di Barker grumbled at Bodybag on

the way out of the prison officer's room. "I'm not making any special efforts for that stuck up woman no matter what her problems might be. She didn't notice the evil smile on Natalie Buxton's face as her sharp hearing picked up on the unguarded sentiments.

Nikki and Helen quickly learnt some basic lessons of motherhood. Firstly, the quantity of babygros and cardigans they'd bought were chucked into the washing machine one after another which performed nobly under the increased workload. In a separate existence when they were just a twosome, they had thought they might be overdoing the outfits in their infatuation of prospective motherhood. Secondly, as they changed nappies ad infinitum, they were immersed in the practical reality. Finally, they learnt to grab what sleep they could as their ears were finely attuned to the sounds of Rose's distress. On each occasion, they feverishly deliberated between the diagnosis of hunger, wind or was Rose just being grizzly and both women got used to the tell-tale damp patch on the left shoulder of whatever top each woman had flung on as it turned out that Rose needed to be rubbed on the back to regurgitate the too hastily guzzled mother's milk. As time passed, it was only two days when it might easily have been seven.

A knock from the outside world sounded and with bleary eyes, Roisin and Cassie presented themselves at the door. To both women's eyes, they looked impossibly smart while they felt very dog eared in their feelings.

"You don't mind if we call in and see how you're doing? We didn't want to interfere," Roisin said apologetically.

"Interfere away," sighed Helen dropping into the armchair. "You have a standing invitation. We've been through the steepest learning curve imaginable."

"This has been a real eye opener. Helen went through more of the ante natal classes while I was being Ms Career Woman. I think that all mothers should get medals," Nikki said dryly, looking little better than Helen.

"Do you want me to make all of us a cup of coffee?" suggested Cassie politely. Two intensely grateful expressions were sufficient answer.

The four women fell to chatting while the washing machine whirred softly and it was clear to Roisin that their friends had broken the back of the initial sharp changes in their lives which she knew of old. The whole thrust of her soothing Irish nature was, yes you both deserve a pat on the back and the changes as babies grew into toddlers and then into children could be dealt with, especially as it wasn't left to one solitary woman to shoulder everything. This had its effect and a sleepy sense of accomplishment stole over Helen and Nikki as they gained perspective on how much they'd done.

"My God, I totally forgot," Nikki suddenly called in alarm. She suddenly remembered assuring Kristine in her faraway incarceration that she'd be the point of contact if anything went wrong. It felt like a lifetime ago but was only two weeks or so."I have to phone work about Kristine," she explained.

"Just relax," a distantly familiar male voice reassured her down the phone." I put my oar in as I realised that Kristine needed backup. Knowing that you'd rightfully be immersing yourself in motherhood, I phoned her up and gave her my phone number. No news is good news and this is her last full day in Larkhall. You come back when you're good and ready to slay the Larkhall dragon. Till then, don't think about work. That's an order."

The other three women looked on with affectionate amusement as Nikki sank back into the settee with a sigh of relief. At that moment, Rose woke up with a cry.

"I'll deal with her if you want," offered Roisin. Helen smiled gratefully in response.

When John returned from court on Monday evening, he knew that two restless creatures had been very patient with him during the day, took care to ensure he was aware how good they'd been and he knew he'd take them for an evening's exercise round the grounds. Last weekend had demonstrated to him how each dog egged the other on and he was physically worn out by Monday and ready for a quiet week's work by comparison. He wasn't sure whether animals or children were greater bundles of unruly energy as his daughter Charlie's childhood seemed a long time ago,

"Miss Channing for you, my lord," the butler announced after John had finished his dinner. He knew that this announcement had attracted the attention of two pairs of expectant eyes and four ears. George drifted across the threshold with a pleasant smile on her face. She'd called in on the off chance for no reason in particular.

"It's lovely to see you again John. How's life treating you these days?" George said pleasantly. She was wearing her knee length black skirt with a slit up the side which John noted as her version to work discreetly against conventions. Every time they met, a warm easy atmosphere developed in no time. Both of them knew it hadn't always been that way.

"As you can see, I'm dog sitting for Kristine as I suppose you know of the project she's involved with. I'm fond of Jules but I'm sure he's more suited to being a guide dog than a pet and he has excess energy. It's like the old days when Charlie was little. Do you want a drink," John confessed frankly, his gaze flitting back and forth between her and his charges.

"If you're allowed to, I'll have a cup of tea. Can we sit down over there, somewhere more comfortable," George replied. They drifted over to the three piece suite in the corner of the dining area and she became aware of reproachful glances being directed at her. Her friendship with Kristine meant that due attention was expected of her and she laughed.

"I completely forgot you Jules," George exclaimed laughing and proceeded to make a great fuss of the animal. John was very touched by her lack of self-consciousness and realised once again how she'd changed over the last few years. Presently, they sat down as the evening sunshine shone through the windows of the restaurant area and chatted away inconsequentially. It was only when George stood up to obey the unspoken request for a walk that she noticed an unwelcome sight.

"I've got dog hairs on my best black skirt. It's all your fault, John Deed." she exclaimed loudly without thinking as hairs from Jules' light coloured coat had left its mark on her skirt .It was second nature to her to blame him and she reverted to type.

"George," John replied softly with gentle reproach. "I know how particular you are about your clothes but aren't you aware that an extremely brave woman is putting her neck on the line by being a prisoner for two weeks? You must have heard from Nikki and Helen how dangerous it is for anyone, let alone for a blind woman who might be hard put to physically defend herself?"

George blushed deeply with shame and embarrassment. Of course she should have known better. It might be, as she thought about it, her way of emotionally battening down the hatches on her own worries on her friend's account. John's words sent a shiver down her spine. She recalled the dim sense of menace in the visitor's room at Larkhall and remembered that she had an inviolable status, the same status Kristine might have had if she'd visited it openly as part of her research project.

"I'm really most dreadfully sorry John. That was really crass of me. Will you forgive me? What's worse is that I've visited Kristine in prison only last week. You know how she won't tolerate the slightest thought that, not being sighted, she's a second class citizen. I've clung to that thought to stop me worrying about how she's going on."

"Of course I understand George. Let's be positive. By my reckoning, this is Kristine's last full day in Larkhall. If there were bad news, Nikki would have let one or other of us know. No news is good news," John said in his most soothing tones.

"Let's have a relaxing walk round the grounds John. Fresh air will do us good,"George answered softly, knowing very well that John's words were designed to allay his own fears as well as hers. She read him like a book and the look in Jules and Mimi's eyes showed that they felt there was something up as well.

Out of the blue, Kristine felt a dull thud on her forehead which rocked her back on her heels. A dazed feeling of unreality permeated her system. This should not be happening to her. When she heard that unmistakeable evil voice and she received a second blow, she knew that she'd overcompensated for Spiers' unwelcome attention and that she'd chanced her arm one time too many.

"Now you're for it, you no eyed bitch. You'll see what the top of G Wing means by wanting respect and just how badly you'll get your comeuppance."

A sickening feeling rose up in Kristine. Her mind worked a mile a minute tracing this to events dating back to the night before. She was too dazed to think about dodging the next blow she knew was coming any time now...

Strange emotions flared up in Pat and Kristine's cell the night before. The dark haired woman sensed that Kristine's temporary stay in Larkhall was due to end shortly and, for such a self-contained tough woman, she knew she'd miss late night intelligent conversation and the respect of the other woman, having also become very protective of her and knowing this was a sure-fire way of driving Kristine away. Her only way out was battening down her emotional hatches and trusting that her friend wouldn't notice. Kristine of course, got these feelings loud and clear and they jangled her emotions.

"I'm going back to the cell Pat. I need my space," Kristine found herself saying without having assimilated the fact that she was going stir crazy at the nearness of getting her freedom.

"I'll join you," Pat said promptly, leaving most of her sausages and eggs on her plate. She suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. The officiously fussy Di Barker saw her opportunity and jumped in while Natalie Buxton stole a sly glance at the unfolding drama.

"Come on Kerrigan, finish your breakfast. Just give Ms Thorne a chance to breathe," Di said in her most sarcastic tones. Pat turned red in the face and came very close to thumping this stupid woman but knew very well that she'd end up down the block in short order. She decided to talk rather than fight.

"It's no big deal. I'm not hungry. Happens, doesn't it especially with this shit diet."

"Eat up your breakfast- like a good girl," Di answered with that excruciating twist in her voice that Bodybag deployed to Denny's mother many years ago. Pat reddened, grabbed her knife and fork and stuffed her food into her mouth, almost gagging as she ate. Finally, she grabbed her tray, stalked over to dump it and noticed with horror that Buxton had disappeared.

She started to run down to their cell at express speed, brushing past Spiers who was strolling slowly towards her, telling some story or other to a new PO. Behind her, Colin Hedges had just come onto the landing, put two and two together and rushed after Pat. As the dark-haired woman flung open the door, she saw Kristine splayed out on the floor, unconscious and Natalie standing triumphantly over her on the point of putting in the boot. She turned her head round slightly too late and received the full force of Pat's right fist right on her chin.

The rounds of clattering footsteps drew Lou Stoke to the scene of the action as she quickened her pace from the opposite direction and she pushed her was centre stage. The sight of a white-faced Kristine Thorne slumped on her bunk, looking bruised and battered drew her shocked gaze. Then she took in Colin Hedges and Selena Geeson who'd got a firm grip on a seethingly furious struggling Buxton while Kevin Spiers and the new PO held an unresisting Pat Kerrigan. Peeking round the corner of the cell behind Lou, Di Barker's face pretended concern. Denny Blood barged in behind her, glaring hatred at the prison officer. She knew very well how this woman's well-meaning concern had been overtaken by her cranky spitefulness, born of her frustrations and failures in her private life.

"First thing is to get Kristine Thorne down to the medical wing. I'm not having any disagreement especially from you. You need help. I'll talk to you only when you're good and ready," Lou said in a tough, kindly fashion and Kristine wanted to be taken out of here.

"I'll escort her if Buxton keeps still," volunteered Selena in crisp tones." Perhaps Denny can help if Pat Kerrigan's needed here?"

"So long as everyone knows Di Barker started this. I saw it all," Denny Blood said, still angry and wary in case she was sidelined when so much shit was still going down.

In that moment, Lou knew all. She'd been betrayed.

"Shall we take Kerrigan down the block? She obviously struck Natalie Buxton," Spiers said in his hard dry tones in his attempt to spin doctor the situation.

"Buxton was just about to put the boot in on Kristine before I landed one on her. Something like self defence, I call it," Pat retorted, looking directly at Lou. The astute woman knew who to believe.

"Let Kerrigan go back on the wing but don't think you've necessarily got away scot free. When I'm ready, I want her taken up to my office. It's obvious Buxton started the fisticuffs so she goes down the block right now."

Lou Stoke's mind was whizzing rapidly. She had to pursue the matter with method even though she knew in her heart what had happened. She valued her friends and allies in G Wing but knew she had to keep her enemies even closer to prevent them conniving together. She felt sorely in need of a high-powered helpmate as she couldn't be in two places or more at the same time.


	35. Chapter 35

A dull headache spreading round the inside of Kristine's consciousness prompted her to wake up from her deep sleep earlier than the clockwork discipline of wakeup calls warranted which she deduced from the deathly silence. Wearily, she turned in her narrow bunk and lay on her back. She never felt more physically and emotionally wasted in all her life as the shattering events of yesterday bookended the fact that she'd be leaving all her new found friends behind. Her undercover investigation had given her more than she bargained for and she needed Pat's straight-talking toughness plus an early morning cigarette.

"You all right?" Pat asked in stiff tones.

"As well as can be expected," Kristine answered edgily, the medical cliché coming straight off her unconsciousness.

Pat slid off the top bunk, slipped on her jeans and turned to face her friend.

"Let's cut the crap. I know you'll get your release today and you're feeling as guilty as hell about it, aren't you?" Pat said pithily. She could feel the tension released from her friend as she turned to face her and knew she was right on the mark.

"I never thought I'd feel this way. I went into this as an intellectual exercise to pursue my crusade," Kristine confessed as her feelings were verbalised into the cold early morning air.

"We need to talk face to face," Pat started to say and then started to laugh at the way she forgot one more time that her friend wasn't sighted.

"Want a cigarette?" Kristine offered pleasantly, in her hospitable fashion. After two weeks inside prison, she knew that such a gesture meant a lot when she wasn't now in the position of popping down to her local corner shop. Instantly, she shut her eyes against the image she'd conjured up. Pat took the cigarette which Kristine lit up for her and the dark-haired woman gave an appreciative sigh.

"In a way you don't belong here," Pat said, pacing around and puffing out a column of smoke. "You'd never do anything to get you sent down. All this time, there's been a lot of tension going down with Buxton and screws like Barker and Spiers. Since you came, you've brought it all out into the open. When you get out, you do what you're best doing and you'll be all right by us. I mean it."

The intensity of this other woman deeply moved Kristine. Pat had been true to her word that she'd first given to Nikki. That meant a lot.

"Give me a hug," Kristine said impulsively. Without hesitation, Pat slipped into the other woman's arms and they held each other close. This was no preliminary to sexual invitation in some woman's faraway flat which drifted across her mind but a bitter-sweet preliminary to a parting, feelings of simple human affection that would last a long time.

When they came out with their breakfast trays, Pat was transfixed by the sight of a woman she hadn't seen before. She was of medium height,slim built with full breasts underneath her t-shirt, darkish red hair piled up at the back of her head and, most of all her bold eyes instantly locking with her own. She'd never felt that way for a woman before. Her last experience was living with the boyfriend who'd beaten her about till she'd knifed him in the groin in a moment of liberating rage.

"You're new here. I haven't seen you before," Pat heard herself saying, her heart thumping inside her. It wasn't what she wanted to say.

"I've been noticing you for ages. Nice to see you looking back at me. I'm Sheena Williams," a soft, fairly educated voice replied. It was just what she wanted to hear. Denny Blood knew the signs and stepped in.

"You sit with us Kristine so Pat can get to talk to her." Kristine smiled tolerantly at her friend and let the other two women pair off.

"Kristine, the governor wants to see you. I'm to take you there," Selena said, straight faced a little while later.

"Whatever for?" Kristine answered with hopefully simulated surprise.

"Come with me and you'll find out. Who knows, perhaps you've won the National Lottery?" joked Selena, light heartedly. Buxton's absence immediately removed the prevalent atmosphere and made everyone's existence easier. Kristine followed the other woman's lead, the sharp-eyed Julies catching on to something going up.

When Selena opened the door to let them in, she noticed a glowering, threatening Joy Masterton pacing around while Lou Stoke looked directly at the visitors as she clasped her hands together and rested them on the table.

"Well Ms Thorne, I'm not going to beat about the bush. I've just received a notice that the police are dropping all charges against you..."

"More fool them. I know you're as guilty as sin. You're that type," growled Joy Masterton, unthinkingly trying to glare at the target of her displeasure.

"...So obviously as the court order holding you in custody has been revoked," Lou continued chirpily, disregarding her boss's vengeful mood. "Obviously, we need to sort out your discharge as soon as possible. Seeing that you've made your mark in short order, perhaps some proper farewell is in order.."

"We won't be bringing in a twenty piece brass band," commented Joy sourly. "Anyway, I've got business to attend to. Lou glared quickly as the woman stalked out, recalling that their prior conversation was not to bring Spiers to book which was against Lou's wishes. After the door was shut behind her, Lou relaxed and studied this unusual woman through her black framed spectacles.

"There's more to you than meets the eye, Kristine Thorne. Somehow, I don't think I've heard the last from you," she said shaking the other woman's proffered hand. Kristine kept a diplomatic silence so that Lou could maintain a position of deniability when the consequences of her imprisonment would finally happen.

Nikki had just finished washing her hands from changing yet another nappy, a job she helped to with typical stoicism and had slumped into an armchair when the phone rang. With a quizzical look, she went to pick up the phone and a voice which sounded like a long lost friend roused her to her sense of duty.

"Hi Nikki, It's Kristine. I've just been told of my release and Paul Armstrong's going to pick me up from Larkhall in an hour or so. He'll bring me round to your flat if that's OK with you," her clear voice came down the phone, scrambling up Nikki's own thoughts of domesticity. She suddenly recalled a distant throwaway conversation she'd had with Paul before she'd gone off on maternity leave.

"Has everything gone all right?" Nikki asked anxiously, being highly aware how the payphones at Larkhall prison could be overheard by the wrong ears.

"Everything's fine," lied Kristine. It served no purpose for Nikki to learn the truth till she's ready. On the other end of the phone, Nikki intercepted Helen's raised eyebrows look and quietly told her as an aside.

"It isn't a good idea for me and Kristine to be spotted. It would blow the game totally." Helen nodded agreement.

"I can feel the instant connection between you and Sheena Williams," observed Kristine a little while later as Pat helped her pack her belongings into two polythene bags."You should see where it leads you two."

"I've never been with a woman before," Pat finally said at last after carefully folding one of Kristine's tops. Her mind had been buzzing at express speed since the earlier encounter and Kristine's words had set the seal on the process of giving up on relationships with men. Being situated where she was, she thought why not? It even overcame her native caution as she had only just met Sheena but then again, why not? She might have picked up this liberating phrase from sharing a cell with Kristine these few weeks. It was what her friend stood for.

"I suppose you've been there already?" Pat concluded.

"Actually I'm bisexual but I'm choosy about who I sleep with," Kristine replied with a broad smile.

"I might have known," grinned Pat as she felt easier in her mind. After all, what point was there in enduring one more testosterone driven moron especially after her friend's bad experience?. What was the big deal in crossing over the road?

The Julies picked up on the news of Kristine's discharge and tongues were soon talking. They didn't have the time to drum up a party or a present so they figured out that a good send-off would do. Kristine felt peculiar when she faced the rows of cheering women and smiling prison officers that had treated her well. She instantly felt claustrophobic as she felt the walls closing in on her and Julie Saunders was the first to give her a farewell hug.

"I know you're on some underground mission and Nikki's somewhere at the back of it. You go out there and do your stuff, eh?!" she whispered into Kristine's ear.

"Bless you," Kristine whispered in return. Suddenly, she felt that she was real after all, not just acting a part. She had the right to her send off after all. While Pat carried her bags, Kristine slowly tapped her way down the wing for the last time and even casual acquaintances like Kristin Yates and Mel Bridges joined in the celebrations.

"You're getting out for all of us mate," Denny said, recalling words that Nikki had said to Monica Lindsay way back when without being conscious of it. Near the end of the line, Colin Hedges shook her hand, stuck for words.

"Don't suppose Natalie Buxton is here to wish you well," Selena commented in her laconic fashion before giving her a friendly hug. Right at the end of the line, Pat laid her bag down and wrapped herself round her friend for one last time, tears running down her face.

"Thanks- for everything," was all she could get out, regretting that her proud nature prevented her saying more.

"It's me who should be thanking you Pat. Good luck and remember what I told you," Kristine said, releasing the other woman at last. She knew she had to turn to the future and knew that her two weeks experiences would give her the emotional commitment to keep on keeping on. Lou Stoke took the plastic bags.

"Can you help me get my way to the car? I've only been this way once before when I came in?" Kristine asked politely. The other woman graciously obliged, noticing sardonically that there were notable absences amongst the prison officers and Joy Masterton was otherwise occupied. Her resentment about having the complaint about Spiers being blocked gave her added reason. Finally, Kristine felt herself tapping along the cobbled courtyard and out through the gates. Kristine felt a breath of clear breeze blow on her from outside and felt dizzy at the feel of freedom.

"There should be a car waiting for me, Lou," Kristine said politely.

"What colour?" Lou started to say and burst out laughing. Then she spotted a smart red car obviously waiting for her and a good looking guy in it. She waved to him and he edged the car over to them. Lou put the bags into the boot and held the door open for the other woman. Her mood was curiously lightened.

"Best of luck," she called out and shook the other woman's hand. Outside the closed environment, she felt this woman was at least equal to her.

"Where do you want your chauffeur to take you?" Paul asked in his light-hearted fashion. Kristine didn't answer for a while as she lay back in the passenger seat, feeling the wind from the open window ruffle her hair. She was only just coming to terms with her freedom, the prospect of dealing with a mortally offended Jules, picking up the reins of her work and above all, boiling down the intensity of her experiences into academic form. She wanted to chill out somewhere

"Nikki's place if that's OK with her. I've got to report back," Kristine said in a tired voice.

"She and Helen have just had their baby," Paul said in a conversational fashion. This took her aback. She was having problems adjusting to the outside world.

As soon as Nikki and Helen caught sight of Kristine as she came into their living room, they knew that their friend had gone through the mill. She'd temporarily lost that elegant exterior and she looked careworn and had that manner of any prisoner who was adjusting to freedom.

"So how did you find life in the snake pit?" Helen asked with an astute look in her eye. The peace and quiet was so tranquillizing as the sounds of Larkhall were still echoing around inside Kristine's head.

"Jesus Christ," exclaimed Kristine. Very unusually for her, it took her a long time to verbalise her feelings into any shape or form as the good and bad jangled up against each other. Her friends understood her feelings.

"You have special dispensation to smoke Kristine. I won't join you as I have a lifetime ban slapped on me by Helen," Nikki said with a wry smile, passing over a packet of cigarettes which Kristine knew her friend had got specially for her. This was typical of their thoughtfulness.

"You know my principles about passive smoking but there's all the reason in the world to make a solitary exception but it doesn't cover you," retorted Helen with a wide grin on her face. It made Kristine laugh.

"We're just about to have dinner if you want something to eat," offered Nikki hospitably.

"So long as it isn't sausage, bacon or fried egg, I'd love to stay," Kristine said with deep feeling."I've yet to meet Mister Man and I'm afraid that he'll dump a ton load of guilt on me for abandoning him. It's a pity dogs can't speak English." The two other women agreed heartily as Rose was already starting to exercise her own temperament and they were a little worried about her combined genealogical inheritance. Kristine started to talk in bits and pieces over dinner and finally she started speaking in her clear concise fashion.

The reunion with Jules panned out exactly as Kristine had feared. He didn't forgive her, would never forgive her and anyhow, his new master was much nicer and more bribable than she was. It was only when a direct appeal to his ego was made to resume his life as a working dog did he start to graciously unbend. Animals or children, thought Kristine with gritted teeth as she settled down in her unexpectedly wide, softly luxuriant bed and fresh smelling quilt that evening, who'd choose between them?

"You need to get back to work and back to your project," Helen said late at night as she'd spotted a certain restlessness in Nikki's manner ever since their friend had left. "I know what you're like better than anyone. You don't want to be staying here out of guilt. You have a duty to pick up where Kristine left off and finally slay the dragons of Larkhall for everyone who's been there and is there, myself included. My turn to get back to work will happen, don't you worry."

What else could Nikki say or do but get her best suit out of her wardrobe and set her alarm clock. Her desk was waiting for her.

Nikki had a most peculiar feeling as she set off in the Peugeot the following day, bleary eyed from Rose waking them up in the middle of the night. Like Helen, she'd learnt to crash out after settling Rose back to sleep. She had to think carefully about the route to take which once had been automatic instinct.

"Just take your time reading your e mails and settling yourself in and write up your notes. I take it Kristine briefed you properly. Play yourself in gradually," Paul said softly, kindly evoking a cricketing metaphor which certainly fitted the bill. Her desk and computer felt strange to begin with but she knew everything she knew about her job would come back to her _._


	36. Chapter 36

While the tumult and tension in Larkhall Prison unreeled itself over the last two weeks, life in the legal world continued in its stately fashion as usual.

It had become a habit of Jo to steal time to browse round the shops in Oxford Street, her relationship with Jane having made her more fashion conscious and then on to George's chambers for a welcome cup of tea. She'd spotted a pair of slim cut fashion jeans as a variation on her recent purchase of short dresses and, with these in a carrier bag, swung into George's comfortable surroundings.

As soon as Jo's gaze fell upon the buff-coloured folder marked "Regina versus Melanie Bridges, her smile dropped off her face. George put two and two together when she saw Jo's troubled expression. She'd been through this before when Alice had been entangled with her ex, Becky Elliott and she'd learnt a few lessons, the foremost being direct communication.

"I'm handling the defence if you must know Jo. I'm up against Neumann Mason-Alan. I trust you're not going to touch this case with a bargepole," George said firmly and instantly. At that very moment, she feared she'd made a mistake as she saw her friend's eyes flit back and forth but said nothing. There was an irrational, emotional side to Jo's character which could be a double-edged sword.

"You have a woman already who cares for you and will be good for you. I mean Jane Lancaster," she added to soften out the harshness of her advice. She was relieved to see her friend's eyes regain their focus and look at her. That was a good sign. George took two cigarettes from the silver case in her handbag, silently handed one to Jo who gratefully lit up from her proferred lighter.

"Thanks George. I thought I'd put Mel out of my mind months ago only she'd been lurking in my subconscious. The sight of the file sent me into a flat spin for a moment," Jo said, exhaling a column of smoke and a tangle of emotions. "So what would you advise me to do?" she added brightly. George knew that her friend was level-headed and would take advice from her, if sincerely meant and up to her normal standards of professionalism.

"Trust me to run the case as best as I can and to stay on the sidelines. It would be best for both of us," George said gently.

"That reminds me. I haven't been called as a witness. Is this an oversight or how much did my presence at Mel's place really count?"

"If I can help it, you won't be called," answered George slowly and deliberately, making sure that Jo was looking directly into her own eyes. "Put your barrister hat on, Jo and see things as if you were an outsider. The prosecution case is that she was running a drugs ring in the daytime while you were working in town as a respectable barrister. She maintained her affair with you on evenings and weekends and kept it strictly compartmentalised so even an intelligent woman like yourself had no idea what was going on. You might be asked what you thought she did for a living but you never asked the question and she wasn't saying except for the spurious rock star image. You can't possibly give evidence either way about the charges and you must know that she wasn't the woman you thought she was even though both of you go back a long way. The other reason I won't be calling you is that, speaking as a friend, I wouldn't want you to run the risk of your character being attacked in open court when you'd be at your most vulnerable. You'd end up being forced to represent yourself which to me is a strict no no."

Jo shut her eyes and breathed in and out several times. She knew that the Mel Bridges affair had left her feeling hurt and betrayed and an unconscious element of her relationship with Jane was to get away from that. George was talking the absolute truth. It was a case of fools rush in where angels dare to tread.

"You're right George. Bless you. There's only one question left. Is Neumann Mason-Alan going to call me as a witness for the trial. I've assumed that no news is good news."

"Not that I've heard of. I'd guess that he's relying on the evidence of the police operation and, unfortunately for my client, the evidence is good. I'll do my best but you know as well as I do that we're not miracle workers. My best hope is that he'll get over-confident and overreach himself. You know what he's like." Jo laughed softly along with Jo. She'd at last got a proper handle on the situation and she was glad she'd not carried on bottling things up.

"There's only one last piece of advice I'd give you and that's talk to Jane about it. Behind all her carefree exterior, she's solid and reliable. Alice made a major mistake when she concealed from me the way that her ex Becky Elliott was trying to come back into her life and she was handling it. I'm serious about this point."

Jo winced for a moment. She was naturally inclined to be secretive and George challenged her on this. Finally, she had a good cool think about the situation and nodded her head, yes she'll talk.

"So which judge have you got?" Jo asked lightly. The normality of her friend's manner pleased George but her face darkened at the news she had to impart.

"Some upstart called Jackson has got it. He's almost indecently young but that's all I've heard about him as he hails from the Norfolk area."

"He's either a genius or he's got influence," commented Jo dryly.

"Darling, the world is only big enough for one genius and that's John," joked George. "Seriously, despite his interfering ways, I'd sooner have him as judge anytime. I know what to expect from him. Monty is sitting as a winger for reasons I've been unable to discover.

As Jo made her way back to the Old Bailey, a thought started to nag away at her. The words Judge Jackson, Judge Jackson, Judge Jackson started revolving away in her mind like a stuck record. Somehow, it dislodged ancient memories of past cases, the majority of which had gone into a black memory hole. However, just beyond the point of recall, she kept on searching. Finally, in a blinding flash of revelation like a shaft of light, she had it. There was another Judge Jackson on the scene. Was it a memory or a twice told tale but had she really handled Nikki's original trial papers when she'd been sent down for life for stabbing DC Gossard? All her original rage of injustice came back to her as, years ago, she'd set about appealing the reduced three year sentence for manslaughter down to nothing. It was as if she'd held these ancient parchments in her very hands and witnessed the cold injustice perpetrated on the woman who was now a close friend and veteran of subsequent Larkhall Prison based trials. This woman, together with Helen had always been here or so it seemed and she'd once crashed on their couch as had John Deed himself. This made for a sense of completion, of coming round full circle.

"George, I have it," Jo said excitedly with no preliminaries."I'm sure he's the son of Judge Jackson who was Nikki's original trial judge who sent her down for life."

There was an audible silence as George drank in the awful news. It made dreadful sense to her.

"Oh God, not that one. I suppose I'll find out the hard way if he's any good," George said grimly. In her bones, she didn't like the feel of this news one bit even with Monty's solid presence.

As Jo found herself walking around the Old Bailey, she ran unexpectedly into John Deed. The sight of her old friend made her spirits leap.

"John, it's marvellous to see you again. I've not seen you in ages," she said. beaming all over her face. She was touched by the way she warmed to him.

"Got time to come up to my chambers somewhere more private?" Jo nodded and followed John through the catacombs of the Old Bailey. Finally as he shut the door behind him, poured Jo a drink and sat in the armchair, he started chatting away without any circuitous preambles. Coope was in the background, keeping a wary eye on Mimi who was being temporarily good. She had wondered how much the four legged creature with a mind of her own had learnt from the wilful Jules. Dogs and judges, how can you choose between them?

"I've not been talking out there because Lawrence James is dogging my heels with a fanaticism that makes Sir Ian at his worst seem civilized and restrained. I've seen Sir Ian the other week by the way."

"You have? He's quite disappeared off the map," Jo said in surprised tones.

"He's a changed man and surprisingly, we got on well. He's come to see what a vain and treacherous false Holy Grail ambition is, he's genuinely repented of his ways."

Jo raised her eyebrows at the kind acceptance behind John's words. He'd surprised her, remembering the bitter battles they'd once engaged in and the other man's attempts to attack his position. The Old School Tie, she supposed. This train of thought steered John into a nostalgic frame of mind.

"As I get older, I really value faithful friends more than ever. It divides the authentic from the meretricious. Still, life now is not like the old days."

"You mean you trying to lure me into bed as opposed to the harem of other women you actively seduced? George and me in bitter battles over you?" retorted Jo sharply.

"What I'm getting at is why are the most really attractive women becoming lesbians. I don't really begrudge you and George. It just means that I'm in danger in being left out in the cold," John said in his attempt at light-hearted self-deprecating wit.

"John, if there were two of me, you'd have the other one of me anytime. I suspect that George feels the same. I don't suppose what a platonic lesbian fan base you have amongst the community. They demonstrated for you when you launched your outrageous judge's strike against Neil Haughton, remember?" Jo pursued. It made John laugh as he remembered how quite outrageous he and his fellow judges had been and how George had concealed her obvious support for him.

"It's not as bad as all that. Kristine has just finished her two week undercover operation at Larkhall Prison and I've been missing her. She's attracted to women as well so there's no telling how much she's interested in me."

"The roles have been reversed, haven't they," Jo said warmly laying her hand supportively on his.

"I accept myself and the situation around me. I've stopped fighting everything around me and want to stick to what's important. I don't mind the way you went off and slept with Mel. I want to be mature and accept through Kristine my need for impermanent relationships." John declared, his eyes fixed on Jo Mills. She was deeply moved by her friend's declaration and vowed to help him as much as where she stood with her relationship with Jane Lancaster. After all, he was right as always, except for his reference to Mel. She wasn't important, borrowing his ideas.

George had qualms about taking on Mel Bridges as her client as she wasn't exactly well disposed towards her but her first impression left her nonplussed. Her leather jacket, T-shirt and jeans struck her as loudly aggressive and stupidly calculated to aggravate the court but this was belied by her manner which was surprisingly quiet and educated.

"Good Lord, haven't you got any suitable clothing for court?" she questioned without thinking.

"God, you sound just like my mum," Mel said quietly and tolerantly enough. "Besides I have no other clothes, not since before I've been first held in remand. Besides, if I get anywhere, I do it as I am or not at all," she added with resigned acceptance.

"You know of course you stand a very good chance of going down. I'm not a miracle worker though I'll do my best," George said with soft deliberation.

"I can guess my chances. You can only do your best," Mel answered with a curiously gentle smile. This oddly impressive woman made George feel strangely relieved, as if she was being let off the hook. She could see how this woman's duality so attracted Jo however criminal her intentions.

As Mel entered the dock, she had the curious feeling of life coming round full circle and she was summoned up to her headmistress's study to be punished for her latest misdemeanour. That theatre was a simple cluttered room with a row of long photographs of past school years , the solid forbidding mahogany table behind which her grey-haired ancient nemesis sat. This judge's throne had more commanding bulk, more threatening and included witnesses to her transgressions waiting in the wings. With a gulp in her throat, she knew she was really for it now. To think that all her manic scheming had come to this...

George sat at her familiar place hoping that she looked more confident than she felt, her new young solicitor behind her. In the opposite wing, Neumann Mason-Alan felt some satisfaction as he knew that his formidable enemy was playing from a very poor hand. If he stacked up his evidence and conjured them into an unbreakable shape, he'd be home and dry. These included the following witnesses, DCI Taylor who had masterminded the operation, the two observing officers who had conducted the stakeout, and the members of the drugs squad who had turned over Mel's house and incriminating film evidence and a host of documentation and bank statements.

Monty was feeling particularly irritated as he took his place in the side throne. This man Charles Jackson was a Young Fogey and the spitting image of his father who Monty was young enough to remember. He jangled Monty's sensibilities. His one brief smile at himself was, as a natural member of the fox-hunting backbone of England, he once would have have laughed at the concept of the word. Jackson sharply illuminated how far he'd changed in recent years. This man was in the Judge Jeffries mould so he mentally squared up to the position he'd defend to the death. It was down to him to borrow from John Deed's style of sticking his oar in. He'd spent the last few years in intimate discussions with him and supposed he'd be up to the job. He saw Jackson bristle at the sight of the leather-jacketed tearaway drugs peddler while Monty took one look at her and reserved judgement. Monty glanced at Neumann Mason-Alan, lingered longer on George's reassuring presence and let Jackson commence the proceedings


	37. Chapter 37

"I am Judge Jackson and I'm running this trial. In my court, I intend to see respect for the rule of law adhered to. On my right is Judge Everard, my winger who will advise me. Mr Neumann Mason-Alan, will you open for the prosecution," the thin faced man declaimed in portentious tones. You fool, George and Monty thought in close sympathy. The jury looked taken aback while the words scared the shit out of Mel Bridges.

Neumann Mason-Alan countered the initial shock by leading a line of tedious questioning of the two stakeout drugs squad officers, avoiding his usual vice of asking leading questions. They declared in slow repetition how they'd seen the accused get on her motorbike in the morning at various precisely recorded times and arrive back in the evening. The monotone delivery induced a soporific effect on Mel Bridges after her initial shock, inducing the feeling that this elaborate costumed charade was being conducted around her and she might easily tiptoe out of the court and it would continue without her. When the second witness made repeated reference to a casually dressed, well to do fair haired woman arriving and leaving on a regular basis, Judge Jackson who had directed a frowning gaze on the court, interjected imperiously.

"Mr Mason-Alan, I don't see this woman amongst the list of witnesses. Why isn't she being called to give evidence?"

"There was felt no cause to do so. The police investigation dropped her from the investigation," smiled Neumann Mason-Alan through gritted teeth, arms outstretched. She had been identified as Jo Mills and he saw no reason to pursue an obvious blind alley.

"Nor me either," added George helpfully. She had the sinking feeling that these interventions weren't going to work and this was par for the course for this judge.

"But that's not good enough. I demand that she be called as a witness this very instant," Judge Jackson expostulated, eager to assert his authority. Oh God no, thought George, Neumann Mason-Alan, Mel Bridges and Monty Everard, the last of whom rose to the challenge.

"Both sides have had the chance of submitting such witnesses as they thought relevant and there are rules against admission of last minute evidence and witnesses. For my money, both experienced Queen's Counsels know what they are doing. In any case, either side could have grounds for appeal if this affected the verdict and favoured the other party," Monty grated in firm decisive tones. As he knew very well, the fear to his public reputation concentrated Jackson's mind like nothing else could have done.

"In that case, continue. Let's not be wasting any more time," the man said, tight-lipped. Everyone kept straight faces except for an obviously confused looking Mel.

After that diversion, the trial ran steadily downhill for George. Neumann Mason-Alan was no genius but in his plodding way, he deployed the witnesses and evidence which stacked up remorselessly against her client, especially the witness evidence of the drugs bust. If Mel Bridges couldn't be nailed for criminal conspiracy to operate a drugs ring, she was wide open to the lesser charge of possessing a large quantity of Class A drugs which some bright spark had placed on the indictment. George plugged away as best she could knowing that the big guns in the form of DCI Taylor would be called after lunch and then Mel Bridges faced the inevitable onslaught.

At this moment, Nikki made her quiet entrance in the visitor's gallery up on high born of her emotional desire to stroll down memory lane. After her first triumphs in the Court of Appeal firstly in getting her freedom and next in wiping her name clean as cop-killer, she'd been involved in less perilous circumstances in a series of court cases in the Old Bailey and she'd indulged fond reminiscences in sitting in the same gallery where she and her friends had once sat. She had wended her way here, swinging past security and being greeted with a smile by security, as she revisited the scenes of her further triumphs testifying in support of her friends and Helen or watching from the gallery as her favourite barristers and John Deed and Monty Everard had worked legal wonders. It was part of her return to work to embrace her dual identity of working woman and campaigner for prison reform and loving mother and partner to Helen, despite her tiredness. Paul had indulged her request as Nikki needed it and also to ensure that her knowledge wasn't becoming outdated. As she took her place, George and Monty took her eye with fond remembrance and even Neumann Mason Alan's presence was softened by nostalgia. Suddenly a discordant note was struck by this thin-faced young man speaking in arrogant tones and he roused all of Nikki's dormant violent antipathy towards abusive men just at an unexpectedly

"And did you conclude from the size of the drugs haul and the way it was secreted away that the accused was not merely holding the quantity of illegal drugs but with a view to supply it?" Neumann Mason Alan said, becoming over eager in reaction to the torpid way the trial unrolled.

"My Lord, isn't this a leading question," George shot back, eager to make some kind of mark on the trial.

"Silence. I am Judge Jackson and I decide what is a leading question," the man said, a sense of power rippling like adrenaline through his system.

It was at this point that Nikki gripped the rail of the visitor's gallery and her face turned white with fury. The name Judge Jackson came straight out of her subconscious and she relived the moment when, in her absence, she'd been ripped away from her former existence to the bare savagery of Larkhall Prison from her former existence as a businesswoman. Monty took one glance at Nikki and stepped in.

"I consider that questioning should be more properly directed at your next witness, DCI Taylor. Seeing that it is nearly lunchtime, court is adjourned," he said in forceful tones designed to flatten out dissent wherever it came from. As everyone started to file out of the court, Monty vaulted over the side exit into the court and made his way rapidly up to where Nikki was sitting, frozen like a statue.

"Nikki," Monty called out into her ear with all the warmth of manner he could summon up."Come with me into a side room. We need to talk."

The last words curiously conjured up exactly the way that Helen could tune into her feelings, however different their voices. Numbly, she did as she was bid and found herself sitting down and sensing a kindly presence just when she needed it. She blinked her eyes open and recognised to her surprise Monty's craggy features.

"I'm not only here to talk to you as your company is far preferable to that wretch I've been trying to coach but I'm really afraid that you'll do the kind of damn fool act I'm always protecting John Deed from. The two of you are more similar in nature than perhaps even you know."

Nikki's expression cleared and softened in response to the earnest plea in the man's rough voice. It wasn't the first time this comparison had occurred to her and it pleased her.

"You mean we're both as bad as each other?"

"Both of you get the bit between your teeth and you're away. You're both reckless leaving me to urge caution and restraint. I feel a little envious of you at times."

"John's a natural leader," Nikki replied calmly, the man's self esteem problems peeping through the cracks."He's not Superman. He gets the backup from you he needs. Number two isn't bad, don't you worry," Nikki urged, her concern for this lovable man melting the last traces of her rage.

"Back to Jackson," Monty pursued in businesslike tones, treating Nikki as one of the brethren which wasn't lost on her."He's the son of the hanging judge who first sent you down, blast him. I'm acting as winger because of his reputation and he's certainly lived up to it."

"So what's your plan?" Nikki asked politely.

"If we could get away with it, John and I would cheerfully sit on the bugger and get him to change. Failing that, right minded barristers like Jo Mills, George Channing, Brian Cantwell and even Neumann Mason-Alan could appeal his sentences. That focusses his mind very swiftly. Even Lawrence James who loves him can't save him from the brethren if we stick together. You've seen us in action of course," Monty declaimed proudly in vibrant tones that totally convinced Nikki.

"I get it. We'll leave it to you. I'm all right now. Promise," grinned Nikki. Helen had given her similar notice that she can shoulder the bulk of the childcare so she was directed to stick to doing what she was best at.

"I have to go, Nikki. I've got to kick Jackson into shape for the next session and deal with John's incandescent rage later on." This drew a wide grin from Nikki as she could imagine the scene.

"The woman on trial will go down. She hasn't a hope and George knows it. We wouldn't have let that fool loose on any other case. Be seeing you," Monty finished before rocketing out the door like a man on a mission. An immense feeling of relief flowed over Nikki. Through Monty's rapid words, she'd completed her work task and she'd move on when she was good and ready.

"So what proceeds from the alleged drug dealing did your investigation find as possessed by my client over there in the dock?" questioned George of DCI Taylor in

pursuing the one promising area in her case.

"You'll find all the considerable sums of cash payments paid in personally in the bank accounts set out in the evidence," pressed back DCI Taylor.

"But where's the bling, the villa in Spain, the flashy cars, the expensive lifestyle? All you have to show are a couple of electric guitars,"retorted George. Monty pressed his hand on Jackson's sleeve, indicating that this was a proper field of investigation.

"The cash payments are good enough for me," replied DCI Taylor. Beneath her crisp blue uniform and white shirt lovingly ironed by her partner early this morning, she inwardly conceded the point.

"Let's put it another way. The learned counsel in his questioning established that you have an exemplary career in the drugs squad, with many successful investigations to your credit, a police commendation and rapid promotion considering your age, have you not," rapped out George confidently.

"Yes I have."

"I put it to you that the typical drugs baron has an expensive lifestyle such that I detailed earlier on while my client's lifestyle bears not the remotest resemblance to this. Can you explain this huge discrepancy?" George finished triumphantly, spreading her arms wide.

"No I can't. It doesn't mean she isn't a drugs baron," came DCI Taylor's simple answer. She knew no other way than to tell the truth.

This took the wind out of George's sails utterly. Worse was to come. when Mel Bridges came to take the stand, when all the accumulated evidence was thrown at her and there was nothing George could do about it. Judge Jackson gave her twelve years imprisonment. As Mel stood there shaking in her shoes, the strange thought dawned on her that this was far worse than any headmistress's punishment. She was led off forlornly down to the cells, awaiting the white van and back to Larkhall Prison as a fully fledged prisoner.

"That's better," Kristine said softly in the healing silence of the dark as she felt John being at peace at last. It had been a rocky road tonight after Kristine had been 'released' from Larkhall prison the day before. Her visit to John had been brief. Retrieving a mortally offended Jules who wouldn't forgive his mistress for abandoning him, at least not without recompense was trying enough. John was shocked to see Kristine's bruised eye, a souvenir of being assaulted by Buxton, but she wasn't in the mood for his concern.

"It's all right John," she had said firmly. "It'll heal. It isn't likely to endanger my sight," she had said harshly. All she wanted was to retire to the blissful solitude and safety of her own flat after the intensity of living cheek by jowl with so many people. Her head was still buzzing after all her experiences which weren't ready to be channelled via her computer to the electronic ether. After showering in her own sweet time, she flung herself to bed to luxuriate in the feel of her wide soft bed, Jules having sloped off pointedly to his basket. She dropped into the pit of dreamless sleep as her body demanded it.

The next day, she found herself taking the partially derailed track back to the university. When she reached her office, she was overcome by a feeling of long distanced familiar surroundings which her nerve endings were hyper-conscious of. She needed to get onto her computer and reconnect with her world. She clicked onto her computer and idly worked through her accumulated e mails, dumping the trivial. When she'd come to the end, she created a brand new word document, entitled it "Some experiences of Larkhall Prison" to keep an open ended feel. She lit up her first cigarette of the day, feeling the grateful nicotine and the sound of the wind chimes from the open window. At last, she was ready, without trying to work in long familiar academic frameworks, she poured out her experiences in a stream of prose for an hour or so.

Not until she'd finished at midday did she feel safe to draw breath. This was her theoretical starting point to assimilate her experiences of two weeks imprisonment into proper form and make it the reality she needed. The peace and quiet of her surroundings were balm to her senses and she was also starting to consider that she'd been ungracious to John for looking after Jules on top of his own dog in her eagerness to get back to normality. She was ready to talk.

"It's nice to hear from you, Kristine," Coope's pleasant tones sounded in her ear coming down the line and cheering her up. She passed the phone over to John and she could see that the judge was quickly laying plans after being in a restless mood all morning. She didn't know for certain what the cause was but she had her suspicions but it wasn't her place to ask him outright.

When John came round that evening, he was still wound up by the account Monty had given him of the new pipsqueak of a judge and his lamentable and arrogant performance in trying a case that was cut and dried and served up on a platter. As Monty had feared, it had taken all his persuasion to stop him from committing some damn fool act of reckless abandon. Nevertheless, the restraint he'd secured of John was only skin deep and below the surface, he was still boiling with pent-up rage. He didn't stop to think that he mightn't be in the best mood to see Kristine and wonder if she had her own cross to bear. In reality, she was still traversing the perilous adjustments from getting more than she bargained from her research project, including the way she'd had to be rescued which gave her mixed feelings so her nerves were still frayed. The result was a full-on row which blew up from nowhere and John stalking out into a remote box-room in the flat. The trouble was that both of them had far too good a command of the English language for their own good.

Tension hung on the air, Mimi and Jules wondering what on earth had happened to the two humans and it was only when they each started to make tiny whimpering sounds that John and Kristine each started to look outwards from themselves and comforted the two creatures. This made both of them start to wonder just what in hell they'd been arguing about. John felt it was down to him to make the first move to build bridges as being stuck in a box-room doing nothing was not what he had wanted.

"Ridiculous though I'm sure it sounds, I quite overlooked you'd spent two weeks in Larkhall prison. After all I've heard of the place, I should have known better. Perhaps we should sit down, you tell me about your experiences and I'll tell you about mine."

Even engaging in an act of humility, this man has such a melodious voice I could forgive him anything, well almost, Kristine thought and with a wide smile, she indicated the sofa.

"You pour me a dry Martini and you pour yourself whatever you like. We both need one. After we've done, we'll talk as you said and I'll cook you my extra special dinner reserved for those with discerning palates," Kristine said in her smoothest tones, meaning the dinner she'd cook if sex was on her mind which John understood loud and clear.

Thus it was that the evening slid away into a state of more pleasurable normality. John winced in sympathetic pain at the unbelievable experiences that Kristine retailed in such casual tones so that his sexual desire was spiced with admiration and respect for her. Kristine at last got the message John had been saying in his jagged incomprehensible fashion of a young Judge Jeffries on the loose and she understood completely the stress he felt at trying to keep this idiot in line. After all, he might easily be a source of outrageous prison injustices if he weren't controlled. She felt a little guilty at her impatience and anger that anyone outside her recent raw experiences was unfeeling. They both apologised to each other graciously over the succulent meal and alcohol and this put necessary temporary distance between themselves and their lives.

"Don't forget to turn the light out," Kristine said softly in that sense of shared familiarity before the rustle of clothes announced their disrobing, The sexual contact they made was hard and furious and, while Kristine could easily account for it by two week's sexual abstinence, either John had done the same or else he was a good performer even if he'd just separated himself from another woman he'd pleasured. After they'd satiated each other, they were coming down from their heights into a state of blissful abandon that abolished everything out of their bedroom and they felt at peace at last.

"There's nothing like a good row to have some really sensational sex and you take some beating even amongst my wide circle. I mean men and women," Kristine said smugly as her fingers described random patterns on John's back.

"Don't your students provide far too much temptation?" John asked without thinking about it.

"There are some gorgeous women but they are out of bounds. I don't feel that safe that I'd risk losing my job," Kristine answered with a mixture of levity and seriousness which didn't bother John any.

"I suppose I'm safer. I once seduced Jo Mills when I was her pupil-master," John said as if he was a naughty boy which, of course he was. It made Kristine laugh and reminded her what a bad man he was and how it gave him that extra dash of rakish attraction.


	38. Chapter 38

Nikki groaned to herself when she was woken up at two in the morning by the sounds of their crying baby but crawled out of bed along with Helen. After a nappy change didn't do the trick, Nikki took Rose into her arms, rocking with the baby and rubbing her back vigorously. Finally, a spurt of liquid landed on Nikki's nightie.

"Aha, greedy guts. Too much mother's milk. You can have too much of what you want," sang out Nikki quite naturally to Rose who quickly relaxed limply into her arms.

"Well done Nikki," Helen called out softly from behind her, admiring her partner's quick and flexible thinking. They settled the half asleep baby down in her cot and grabbed much needed sleep.

When the alarm clock rang, she was still suffering form a bleary night and quickly shoved on her usual work suit without much thought. Here she was first thing in the morning, hastily touching up her make-up with a life or death investigation on her hands. What's worse was that it was Monday morning, without the rest of the week to get her into gear. Watching from the sidelines, Helen recognised this device to ratchet up much needed confidence.

"You're sure of what Kristine told you?"the smaller woman asked, adjusting her partner's lapels. This gesture reminded Nikki how her mother used to ready her father for a day's work and this thought didn't bother her as it might have done once. Helen knew this.

"Kristine made things crystal clear when she explained it and typed out her statement. It's what use I make use of it in the snake-pit," Nikki said a little nervously. This was counterbalanced by her friend's incisively related story and the way she shooshed her to keep quiet while she rattled out her statement on her computer at lightning speed.

"There's something else. You know I'll get my turn later on, sweetheart. You know you're looking at a relentless career woman who likes moving mountains. I'm taking a break and enjoying what I'm doing. You do this for us as it's an old battle of mine," laughed Helen perfectly seriously, kissing her partner lightly on her lips. Nikki brightened up for the first time that morning as that kiss was the final touch in putting everything in focus.

"You've eased my conscience. I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she laughed. As she gulped down her coffee, she looked down at Rose, still peacefully and innocently asleep. She was fighting for their baby's unknown future, her family and those she was helping through her work. She gave Helen a last farewell kiss and went out the front door armed with the truth and her briefcase towards their red Peugeot.

She zoomed off like a woman on a mission and it was only when she got through the security on the gate when it surprised her that she hadn't had the faintest attack of nerves like she did on her previous visit. Her well-developed sense of irony put it down to a combination of feeling more secure in her present occupation and a bad night helping settle their crying baby. After managing that, all things were possible.

"I've received instructions to escort you to the Governing Governor," Bodybag declared in peremptory tones after she'd passed by Ken on the security gate much as she'd seen him on her last visit. Her prison pass which Ken had given her was pinned to her lapel as an emblem of immunity. Her old enemy had her typical down-turned mouth and glaring eyes. Nikki wasn't to know that since Lou had broken the news to her the day before, she'd had time to become incredibly wound up.

"Suits me," Nikki said with light assurance, her long stride threatening to outpace the other woman who had to scuttle along to keep up. The drive over to Larkhall Prison and this encounter had retuned her nerves to become wire taut, ready for anything, including her preliminary researches on Miss Masterton. On entering the room, the ramrod straight , short-haired woman behind the desk wearing a frown and eyes boring into her confirmed she was right on the mark.

"I've heard of you, Ms Wade,"she growled, declining the outstretched hand.

"Good news I trust. I've been here before you know,"Nikki said lightly.

"So your old prison file tells me. In my book, I'm not sure you're a suitable visitor to be allowed round official premises." Nikki was prepared for this one.

"Just the reaction I expected of you. My credentials say otherwise. If you insist on having me escorted off the premises, I have the choice of two male high court judges to write me out a warrant which I'll be back with in double quick time. If you keep pushing your luck, you'll be summoned before the Old Bailey to explain your actions and either of two barrister friends of mine will make mincemeat of you. Now shall this be done the easy way or the hard way? I'm prepared for either," Nikki retorted in harder tones, anxious to squash his obstructive behaviour at the outset.

Miss Masterton averted her eyes from this young upstart, not being used to such tough opposition to her spit and polish army ways. This woman was dangerously well connected and she had to find some way of saving face. Nikki read the older woman's mind with perfect accuracy.

"So you're a lesbian I hear."

"So are you," came Nikki's cool retort.

"Whatever makes you jump to that conclusion," rapped out Joy Masterton, feeling more and more uncomfortable under her opponent's direct gaze.

"Gaydar. Anyway, what's all this got to do with my visit. I want to get started as soon as possible," Nikki said determinedly, putting on the pressure.

Joy Masterton reached for her phone. For once, she prayed Lou Stoke would be around to take this accursed woman off her hands. Nikki watched with amusement as the phone was answered and agreement was reached and stepped in before the other woman was due to speak.

"After I do the tour of G Wing, I'll come back and of course discuss any matters of interest," she offered politely.

"That may not be very convenient," Joy Masterton said in hard dry tones, her Northern accent becoming more prominent than ever. She had thought that was the end of the matter.

"Then make time for me," Nikki said, drawing her face closer to the other woman and letting her suppressed anger finally burst through her polite exterior. She strolled casually out of the room before the astonished woman could think what to say.

As Nikki paced her way unescorted towards Lou Stoke's office with sweeping strides, her mind was racing. Kristine's clear portrait of the woman whose help she wanted to solicit still left her nervous. She was never more confident in dealing face to face with people and she needed Helen's imagined soft, dulcet tones knowing that her partner used to have to gamble her position in the deadly game of office politics for high stakes. Finally, the dull green painted door opened wide for her and one glance at the alert, friendly long-haired woman told her everything, including that she was devoid of pretence. The two of them started nattering away straight away.

"Tell me Nikki," Lou said with a sharp-eyed look,"something tells me it's mighty coincidental that Kristine Thorne gets her freedom and you turn up. I reckon you know her."

"I had a long chat the other day with that remarkable woman. She was particularly interested on the outcome of the sexual assault on her by Spiers."

"You get straight to the point," grinned Lou."The long and short of it is that my move to ensure he gets his comeuppance has been blocked by his friend on high."

Nikki felt the bitter after-taste of this capable woman's words and wonder how come the closet lesbian who ran the prison could be suckered by Spiers. She didn't doubt Lou's honesty though prudence prompted her to double-check.

"He's part of the same reactionary clique that was around in my day here," Nikki tentatively offered, feeling the cards about to fall on the table.

"Too right you are. I could do with seeing the back of them," Lou said with feeling, sensing possibilities about to open up.

"The worst of them used to be the Principal Officer, Fenner, right at the centre of power on the wing if you let him. He had his allies. From what I hear, only some of the names have changed. Besides him, your enemies who will hold you back and sabotage your efforts are Di Barker, Sylvia Hollamby not to say Joy Masterton."

"Got it in one," Lou said, intensely interested, drinking in every word said to her."With decent replacements, I can do anything, even Buxton though she's as bad as the rest of them except she's more upfront."

"Now is the time for a total clearout. I know the B wing governor of Holloway and their set-up, prisoners and prison officers alike, would keep her in line. No chance of well meaning but naive people being twisted round her little finger."

Lou's smile widened out into a happy grin. She couldn't believe her luck that this smart woman, who definitely knew her stuff, had visited providentially.

"Then you'd better talk to Pat Kerrigan and you can pick up my written statement

by the time you get back from your inspection. Good luck," Lou said softly, shaking the other woman's hand gratefully.

As Nikki came out onto the wing, the Julies' heads swivelled round and they and Denny called out excitedly, much to Bodybag's disgust. A rapid sequence of multiple conversations broke out in a manic attempt to catch up since her previous visit eighteen months previously. Yet here she was, reconnecting as if she'd only popped out for the night for a packet of cigarettes. In fact, the Julies were surprised when their friend politely declined a cigarette, bashfully admitting she was now a mother. This drew loud cheers from the growing crowd, Kris Yates having led the way to see a woman who'd won her grudging respect. She studiously ignored the deepening glare of disapproval out of the corner of her eye as Bodybag's home turf had been wantonly invaded. Asleigh wasn't there to see the visitor as she was down the block for her attempted assault on Kristine so Buxton scowled on her own in the background.

"I ain't going to ask you why you're here seeing as you can drop in anytime but good on you," Julie Saunders observed in her friendly fashion that missed nothing.

"Yeah, the bitch in charge must have come from the SAS. The army can have her back anytime," Denny cynically added. They knew, Nikki thought, tears forming on her eyelids as these generous women who were scratching an existence on prison spends made her feel right at home.

"Gotta go," Nikki said regretfully as she caught Pat's eye from the back of the atrium area. They made way for her as they correctly deduced that Nikki's business with their resident top dog was private business that could only do them good. Pat gestured to Sheena that she had private business. The auburn haired woman looked hurt so the Julies gestured to her to join their company. Thanks to the astonishingly benevolent decision by Lou Stoke to move her into Pat's double cell, she was on fire all over with desire for the dark-haired woman even with the nights of passion she enjoyed so that Pat's unexplained decision felt like rejection. Out of the corner of her eye, Pat felt a little guilty but gut instinct told her that conspiracies needed as few in on the deal as possible.

Once they'd sat down in the limited spare space in the cell, Nikki couldn't get a word in edgeways to begin with. Pat had changed markedly since the ice-cool, hard wary woman Nikki had met in Holloway Prison. This creature was brimming over with emotions, firstly for the resourceful and brave former cellmate who didn't need to put her neck on the line and next for the love of her life, Sheena Williams who'd dissolved away her hard defences and showed her a shiny soft world beyond the grim slog of everyday survival.

"I've never been in love with a woman before. It feels so good,"Pat admitted with touching sweetness and a glow in her eyes.

"I was an early starter but my partner Helen had never been with a woman before me and we're here for the long run. We've just had our baby so it must mean we're serious."

"Good for you Nikki," Pat said softly without a blink."If Helen's anything like you, your child will be brought up right. Let's face it, I ended up in a Catholic children's home so anything's better than my upbringing." Nikki rode along the switchback ride of the intensity of Pat's emotions. It recalled the more fractured episodes in Nikki's past so she could relate to it.

"You impress me. Not many people impress me but you and Kristine do and that means something," Pat continued, feeling her friend's thoughts in conversation.

"Thanks. Thanks a lot for everything you've done for Kristine but we must get down to business. We need to talk and get a statement about the assault on Kristine as I know I'm going to need it to nail the bastards responsible," Nikki replied in apologetic tones, hating to curtail this necessary overflowing of emotions.

After Pat had run rapidly through her account of the past two weeks, she smiled in a conspiratorial fashion. She stood up to fish out a crumpled, folded over piece of paper out of her front jeans pocket. She straightened it out and Nikki inspected the prison issue paper and Pat's rather unshapely script. At first glance, there were all sorts of spelling mistakes and unshapely grammar until Nikki got past it and admired the hard work that had gone into it. It was just as raw and intense as its composer and gripped Nikki's attention and the wide-eyed woman wouldn't change a single word in it when she'd finished.

"I was never much much good at English," Pat said in embarrassed tones as she knew what she wrote wasn't slick or intellectual."My best friend in the home used to keep a diary till she hung herself. She was more educated, much good that it did her. You can retype it and smarten it up if you want."

"Don't change it Pat. It's real and there's nothing you've said that misses out anything you've written," Nikki said in soft admiring tones. Pat smiled bashfully. No one had ever congratulated her on written work before, certainly not her late boyfriend, who'd kicked the crap out of her at the time until she had to defend herself by stabbing him.

"Do you think you'll finally sort this dump out? If I didn't think that religion is a load of shit, I'd say it needs exorcising," Pat suddenly said after a long reflective pause. The thought of chanting Hail Mary's and clutching rosaries made Nikki smile.

"Fenner used to be the Principal Officer before Bodybag and he was an evil bastard and when he snuffed it, I thought that would sort it out. This time I mean business, more than embarrassing the Prison Service in writing critical reports. I'm not kidding."

It was Pat's turn to feel the intensity behind the other woman's polite middle class manners. She believed in her guts that this woman had done time and grinned broadly.

"Anyway, I'd better get on to talking to Selena and I'd better let you get back to your lover," Nikki said lightly. A soft foolish smile spread across Pat's face. It did her good to hear her relationship with Selena being spoken of this way.

Nikki was on her own strolling along the corridors to track down Selena before returning to her more orthodox aspects of study update. She was overjoyed how splendidly her investigation was proceeding as she had thrown off her early morning tiredness. Being so focussed on her errand, she rounded the corner without thinking and bumped into a blond-haired woman coming from the opposite direction with immaculate make-up, blue eyes and sharp features.

"Oi," the other woman called out in nasty tones."Watch where you're going."

"I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't looking," Nikki apologised in the natural accents and good manners of her upbringing.

"So you're the do gooder. Coming round here and dissing the screws. I saw you earlier on, everyone kissing your arse. You should know it's not safe around here and no screw wanting to protect you," the other woman said with an evil leer. Instantly, Nikki knew who this other woman was and she was in for trouble.

"It was an accident. They happen you know," Nikki countered with an edge to her voice."You're Buxton."

"Got it in one. And guess who's top dog around here," Natalie sneered, edging closer. Instantly, Nikki reverted to the instincts of her former self and squared up to her enemy. Sure enough, Buxton threw a lightning fast jab to Nikki's head followed by a punch with her left fist which Nikki dodged followed by the third and fourth punch. The dark haired woman was waiting for her enemy to expose herself and she seized the split second chance to hold her enemy's right arm in a half nelson and bear her enemy to the ground with far more strength than Buxton suspected she possessed.

"Hey, I need backup here," Nikki called out in carrying tones that echoed down the corridors. She used the first words that came into her head that fitted the situation. She made sure to hold her squirming enemy to the ground as she was spitting out curses. A clatter of shoes echoed down the corridor and Nikki was overjoyed to see Colin Hedges and Selena Geeson zero in on them.

"We'll take over," Colin Hedges kindly offered."You're for it this time Buxton," he said forcefully into the woman's ear.

"It's all a big mistake. This maniac suddenly set on me. You should watch who you let into this place," Buxton said, red faced and her hair dishevelled

"Sure Buxton. We believe you," Selena said sarcastically, reaching for her handcuffs and clicking them shut."What do we do with her."

"We'll get her down in segregation and then tell the boss. I'm going over Spiers head and I'll get authorisation from Lou Stoke," Colin Hedges said in determined tones as the crestfallen look on Selena's face told him that she feared not getting the backup they wanted. While Bodybag's prejudices were predictable, Spiers was capricious and very likely to take Buxton's side for the most capricious of reasons.

"You all right?" Selena asked, most respectful of this respectable looking woman who had miraculously got the better of this most dangerous of women. Nikki nodded and dusted herself down and picked up her handbag where she'd flung it at the first signs of trouble. She felt a little breathless and ruffled but pleased with herself with this unique trip down memory lane.


	39. Chapter 39

**"** The governor told us that you might want to talk to some of us in your tour of inspection. No disrespect but we're going to be busy for a while getting Buxton banged up," Colin Hedges said apologetically as he and Selena held tightly onto of each of Buxton's arms while she glared and struggled in vain.

It was on the tip of Nikki's tongue to correct him and say she definitely would be seeing them until ingrained instincts resurfaced in her to speak in coded language. Buxton had ears and would tell their enemies what was going on given half a chance so she switched around her agenda straightaway.

"I'm off to check out the education classes and other things so if I need you, I'll catch up with you. I know my way around," Nikki said lightly, spotting the bulky prison issue mobiles they carried and reckoning on Lou's office as her temporary base for today. It was time for her to cool it and plug ahead with her more bread and butter work and revert to being a Howard League researcher. She suspected that these two capable prison officers would have their work cut out to make their action stick and she started to wonder if Joy Masterton might release Buxton just to spite her once she was out the door.

When Nikki chatted to the English teacher, her spirits lightened as she found her friendly and unpretentious. She was highly aware that she was up against damaged family backgrounds leading to low self-esteem, poor formal education and a sense of chronic boredom. She felt a little guilty that her crusading zeal in her first report hadn't given this work its due weight but counterbalanced it with her sarcastic observation that Helen's lifer's unit still hadn't been reinstated despite this key recommendation last time around. She also picked up a despondent note that prison numbers were creeping up insidiously but not the education staffing.

The friendly mood changed the moment she came across Dr Rowan Dunlop who was a completely different proposition from his bullying predecessor, Dr Nicholson's successor whom she'd wiped the floor with on her last visit. He rang different kinds of alarm bells. He was of Asian descent with a middle to upper class British accent. His silky smooth manner would only reassure the gullible and he avoided being pinned down on specifics. Worse still, Nikki found herself being a little slow in registering his discrete sexual feelers. Nikki decided on this as her first point of attack when he expressed phony sympathy at all us modern professionals in having workaholic tendencies. On the face of it, he was right.

"When I get home, I've got the other half of my life with a baby to look after. A woman's work is never done," agreed Nikki.

"Does your partner make his fair contribution or don't you have one?" he asked implying that he was the modern understanding liberated man.

"Yes she does. She's on maternity leave right now so I worry about getting too focussed on my job," Nikki replied softly with a slight smile on her face. Instantly, the light in the man's features was switched off and Nikki made her next move.

"You might have seen my previous report advising prison medical officers gaining access to NHS records from before inmates were imprisoned and were on the outside," questioned Nikki, leaning a little forward in her chair and resting her right elbow on her chair arm.

"I saw the report," lied the man, "and I assure you it's not necessary. I went through all the medical records when I took over the job and kept up ongoing investigations. as a highly qualified healthcare professional, I can be confident I haven't missed anything."

"You might think so but how can you be sure you know where to look if you don't have background information," Nikki riposted.

"I wasn't aware you had any kind of medical qualifications except possibly some sort of generalised social work qualifications," Dr Dunlop shot back with a sneer, starting to feel crowded by this infernal busy bodying lesbian.

"I'm relying on the work done by Dr Thomas Waugh who was a good friend of my partner Helen Stewart when she was acting Governing Governor who I knew when I was an inmate. She swore by his methods," Nikki replied in firmer tones, letting a little of her annoyance show.

The rest of the meeting carried on with Nikki making clear concise points and the man squirming away from the truth. He must have gone to school with Neil Haughton, she sighed under her breath as she continued to press him, getting nowhere fast. Finally, when he was starting to sweat, he was saved by the bell of a prisoner calling on his services.

"Hey what kept you?" Lou Stoke called out in her easy going fashion when Nikki confidently entered her office, having figured out that Colin Hedges and Selena might be ready. To her surprise, Selena was already seated in a chair and smiled at her, having recognised Nikki from her last visit. A sheet of typed paper lay on the desk.

"Trying to pin Dr Dunlop down to facts on this medical practice- and what a job it was," sighed Nikki, thankfully taking the advantage of flopping into an easy chair.

"I find him quite a charmer, very convincing. I could listen to the sound of his voice all day," Lou said with a wide grin on her face.

"That's the trouble. The man's a snake," Nikki broke in, her voice sounding harsh to her own ears. "You probably know I'm a lesbian and might be seen as prejudiced against men but believe me what I say that I'm not. I have a number of close male friends whose word I'd trust as much as my partner Helen's. They're for real. This guy isn't and has his own selfish agenda."

"I agree with you Nikki. The man's insidious," chipped in Selena.

This brought Lou up short. She hadn't told anyone but her move out of area followed a messy separation from her girlfriend and she was at a loose end and unsure of her bearings. In making a new start twice over, she'd engaged with Dr Dunlop in interesting conversations which sparked her curiosity. She respected Selena's bright intelligence and had got to like Nikki very quickly who impressed her.

"Are you really saying stick to women?" Lou asked with a quizzical gaze as she uttered the first words that came into her head.

"Not exactly," Nikki replied with a faint smile on her lips which made Selena repress her own knowing grin."I'm saying all that glitters isn't gold. My dad's favourite saying."

"Hmmn," Lou said reflectively."I'll bear in mind what you're both saying but my love life isn't why we're here. Selena has drafted out a statement that you can use as you see fit. Perhaps you care to run your eye over it?"

Nikki looked approvingly at the concisely written statement which fitted the bill very well, Selena being Kristine's personal officer.

"Bodybag was definitely cutting corners as she always does," added Selena with confident precision. "There was no reason why I couldn't have waited a minute or so for Colin Hedges to relieve me. I told her it wasn't proper procedure The library's nice and quiet and far too easy for someone to be done over. All she wanted me for was some overdue reports."

"Not the first time she's done it. Two prisoners admitted on reception without transfer papers, one a claustrophobic Mrs Middle England who was kicking up a din and a psychopath coming over all meek and mild who had a serious grudge against Karen Betts, a close friend who took over from Helen as wing governor. What does Bodybag do but jump to the obvious wrong conclusions rather than wait and double check so Karen nearly gets dragged through the gates of Larkhall Prison with a syringe full of HIV blood held to her neck. Oh yes, she's a real star," Nikki said sarcastically.

"Jesus," exclaimed the two other women, marvelling at what a fount of information Nikki was.

"Is there any way that I could be open to criticism?" Lou asked thoughtfully."Looking back, I remember the PO meeting before she arrived coming out with airy-fairy ideas of her having special needs and we needed to learn them as quickly as possible. I put her in with Pat Kerrigan as she seemed the obvious choice as cell mate and she did a fine job looking after her. I did her induction the day after she arrived and I think I made a pretty good job of learning quickly and struck up a bargain with her after rumblings of discontent from you know who about her stick being a possible offensive weapon."

"I talked to Kristine and she confirms your account. It's not your fault you got let down by lazy, prejudiced officers. Your statement makes that abundantly clear."

At that moment, the mobile rang."Is there any sign of Ms Geeson in the neighbourhood? She's needed on her duties. There have been some complaints and her mobile has been switched off," Bodybag's self important, point scoring voice called down the line.

"Better go Selena. Switch on your mobile, start walking and I'll phone you in a minute and I'll let Mrs Hollamby know," Lou said softly with strained patience holding her mobile a little distance from her and echoing all three women's thoughts.

"I'll try contacting her myself and whoever contacts her first will let you know," Lou said in louder tones, indicating to Selena to start making tracks. The fair-haired woman got up with a spring in her step, conscious that her years of enduring the old order would shortly be changing for the better.

"You can use one of the briefs rooms and I'll steer Colin Hedges your way. In the meantime, I'd better check out these files," Lou added courteously to Nikki.

Outside the door to the briefs room, Nikki looked furtively around as Colin Hedges came from the opposite direction and it amused her that they looked like two inmates bent on some illegal activity. Colin's grin once they'd slipped inside showed that he shared the same thought, especially as he produced the file he'd tried to hide under his arm. He placed his carefully typed report and stood a slightly worried expression while Nikki scanned it. She guessed that Colin felt that this sort of thing wasn't his forte.

"Don't worry Colin. I'm not your form teacher marking your essay in points out of ten, gold stars and all that. I've already cross-checked with Kristine and this tells the truth, no bullshit and that's what I want. I wouldn't change a thing," Nikki said in her kindest voice. Colin felt absurdly pleased by this nice woman and her droll touch of humour.

"Only glad I could help," Colin found himself saying, his words being tripped up headlong by his tongue. He daren't talk about anything personal as he was so much in awe of her and his naive grin said it all.

"Decent prison officers are really needed round here. I should know having done time here as I expect you know."

"I'd never believe it of you Nikki," Colin said simply. Nikki felt discomforted by this man's lost neediness and knew she had to tell the truth in the nicest possible way.

"One of life's ironies is the number of male friends I have when I've always been a card-carrying lesbian."

"I wouldn't have guessed. I mean it ain't wrong," Colin said without thinking, feeling gauche and unsophisticated. Nikki laid her hand on the man's sleeve as he melted into the woman's extraordinary brown eyes. He could accept her sympathy for him and be glad they'd met just for a day.

"It doesn't matter. You're a good guy...we'd better be going or Mrs Hollamby will be putting out a dragnet for you for no particular reason," Nikki said tactfully as she opened the door and peeped round the corner.

Up till now, Nikki had pursued her game plan with an urgency to complete it as quickly as possible and now she was forced to take a break and she relaxed. She glanced at her watch and Larkhall prison scheduling reminded her that it was less than half an hour to lunch break . Old habits died hard, she mused as she strolled into the library, ostensibly to check out the reading material and she noted that the books were as dog eared as before containing some gems which she'd read in her time, including Jeanette Winterson's 'Oranges are not the Only Fruit." Inevitably, a sudden rush of nostalgia impelled her to revisit the arts room where she and Helen had so sweetly declared their love for each other for the first time. She knew she was destined to go back there to the very start. She could remember her sideways nod to Helen enticing her there and her lover's intense green eyes yearning for something indefinable. Floating on a cushion of blissful emotions, Nikki strolled through the door, into the familiar drab surroundings livened up by paintings on easels and finally, she took in what was centre stage, two discomforted women scrambling to their feet, a black leather jacket lying on the ground. Oh help, Nikki thought, it could only happen to her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded the more dominant looking of the two, dressed in a sleeveless black T-shirt and jeans while the other woman's hair half hung in front of her face in embarrassment. This completely threw Nikki for a moment before she took shelter in her official identity.

"I'm Nikki Wade. I work for the Howard League for Penal Reform and I'm doing an investigation into prison conditions. I'm sorry to disturb you," she said, offering her hand in her friendly fashion. The other woman's anger subsided and she studied her in a wary fashion. This smartly turned out woman wasn't a screw and that was the main thing.

"I've come here to teach my cell mate some basic guitar," elaborated the other woman in softer tones as she dusted down her leather jacket and slipped it on. Her friend hastily took the guitar which was propped up against the wall, sat down on a plastic chair and played it none too expertly to illustrate. Nikki chatted awhile to this woman who turned out to be none other than Mel Bridges whom she'd heard about from George. Nikki knew that these women were placating her while she mentally noted details about them from the spaces revealed in their conversation. After a while of this strained situation, the Tannoy indistinctly announced that lunch was ready so the other two women slipped off. Nikki turned around and stared at this room. On the face of it, it was a very ordinary room but, in the context long ago, how rich were the associations that Helen's magical presence lent it. This is a very extraordinary room, Nikki decided at last, it all depended on your point of view.


	40. Chapter 40

The Julies face brightened as Nikki strolled onto the wing and Denny, who was being served her normal hearty dinner, swivelled her head round and beamed at her. The dark-haired woman appeared to exude success and sophistication stopped hesitantly for a reason her friends couldn't understand. A trace of doubt appeared on the Julies' expressions.

"Would it be possible to you to serve me a meal?I don't want to put anyone out," she said ever so politely.

"Of course Nikki. Come to the head of the queue. I'll expect you're busy," Julie Saunders answered, beaming all over her face.

"I'll wait my turn if that's all right," offered Nikki. She ain't no snob, Denny grinned as she made her way to the table, followed by Pat and Sheena. Holding onto her familiar plastic blue tray and mug, Nikki stood patiently in the queue and struck up a spirited conversation with Kris Yates who was standing behind her and remembered her from last time. She liked this woman whose friendly manner brightened her own moods and who remained resolutely down to earth.

"Pie and chips," sighed Nikki as Julie Johnson served her."That and piss tests shows that it's still a man's world."

"You ain't going to report us Nikki?" the other woman asked anxiously and Nikki suddenly remembered that she had some influence in the outside world."You know we're pretty basic cooks, nothing fancy."

"You can only do with what you've got Julies. The diet needs changing but I'd never push for anything the women didn't want," Nikki said reassuringly.

"I bet it's not all you're going to change," Julie Saunders said out of the corner of her mouth, inaudible to the screws on duty. Nikki grinned in response.

As Nikki made the fourth at the table, Kris looked longingly wanting to join the others. Nikki did the obvious thing to her way of thinking and got up and moved a nearby table next to theirs.

"Hold it, you can't do it Wade. It's against regulations," yelled out Bodybag from across the way.

"Show me where the rules say I can't move this table and my friends can't join me. It's not every day I visit," Nikki countered firmly, feeling comfortably able to out argue this stupid woman as she ever could.

"Leave it, Mrs Hollamby. Nikki Wade's right as always," called out Lou from behind the smaller woman, trying in vain to suppress a grin. Pretty soon others joined the combined table like Mel and Carol while Nikki listened to the general chit chat and held forth about her own experiences of high court judges and her baby. Selena and Colin drifted past and pretended they were on duty.

Now for the tricky bit, Nikki thought, feeling a little nervous as the pleasant interlude inevitably drew to a close. The trouble was that she could foresee that Ms Masterton was going to stonewall her and she was right. Nikki patiently relayed the quality of the evidence against Bodybag, Spiers, Di Barker. She tried her best to act as advocate for her case as George or Jo might have done so but this woman was no John Deed. This was institutional authority at its most capricious and bigoted and only cynical expediency had any purchase.

"You will no doubt make your trouble making report in your liberal circles as you see fit. This is my prison and I run it as I see fit," Joy Masterton said in loud dominating tones that caused Nikki's rage to boil up inside herself and she felt all the sense of injustice she'd ever felt as an inmate. At that moment, she knew that her past had never really deserted her.

"It's a pity you're taking this sort of attitude. You'll regret it of course," Nikki fired back with controlled anger, feeling horribly impotent inside.

"In the meantime, I'll ask Mrs Hollamby to escort you off the premises and you'll

surrender your pass to the gatehouse," rapped out Joy, reaching for her phone. In suspiciously quick-time, Bodybag appeared and the two of them tramped down the corridor. Just to annoy her old enemy, Nikki said a courteous farewell to Lou Stoke who Nikki hoped wouldn't suffer from her helpfulness and Nikki repeated history by making her farewell to a crowd of her friends who'd heard about her leaving. She stood by the exit to the yard and raised her clenched fist to the air, promising defiance.

"Nice to see you again Nikki. Coming back again some time?" Ken said when Nikki walked past to the gate.

"If I'm allowed to," grinned Nikki trying to keep her spirits high. When she got to her parked car and the dazzling sunlight hit her, it felt a little like she was being released all over again.

As she sat in her car and wiped her brow, her mobile phone bleeped and Helen's sweet voice called down the line, Rose being audible in the background.

"You'll never know how good it is to hear your voice again darling," Nikki said in heartfelt tones, also making sure her statements were kept secure in her inside jacket pocket, a design feature she'd always liked in her suits.

"Was it that bad at Larkhall?" Helen answered anxiously, some of her own memories stirring in sympathy. Nikki nodded even though Helen couldn't see her.

Nikki wasted no time in zooming straight over to Kristine's office where Jules greeted her, having forgiven her mistress and she produced the floppy disc on which her witness statements were produced. Kristine clicked on them and downloaded the statements with a grin of satisfaction.

"Of course, it was good to see that slave-driver jump a mile when I told her what I'd got but she isn't going to budge. I can't see any alternative to grassing her up anonymously to the papers, something I'm not opposed to doing," Nikki said trying to keep cheerful.

"We have another option Nikki. You remember when we first met met to discuss our joint project I told you that I have my contacts. It's time to fill you in on one or two details," Kristine said, a grin spreading across her face.

Nikki could remember very well a month or so ago sitting in the very same chair what seemed like a lifetime ago and later on in the café when Kristine had hinted about her contacts and had told her the name of the Principal Officer on G Wing. She hadn't thought any more about the matter as she had confined herself to the job in hand.

"It so happens that I know Frances Myers who works in area management doing investigations amongst other things. She used to be G Wing governor till Joy Masterton came stomping her way in so she knows what it's like. Her immediate boss is Neil Grayling who used to be a pain in the arse moderniser till he finally saw the light She discreetly provided all the particulars that got me into Larkhall and, while she can't say it officially, she'll be only too happy for our information to be released for joint publication. Between you and me, Frances is an absolutely gorgeous sexy woman," Kristine said, an audible grin in her tone of voice.

"How do you know?" Nikki said off the top of her head until the obvious answer dawned on her.

"We sleep together from time to time," Kristine said with perfect aplomb."Her attitude to sex is the same as mine and, while she might seem scary on the outside, she's surprisingly tender and receptive between the sheets. She's not done all this for me for sexual favours. She's done this as she believes as much as you or me. Bodybag, Spiers and Di Barker are dead people walking only they don't know it."

"So she's willing to head up an investigation, using my statements as evidence," breathed Nikki, a joyful light dawning on her.

"She knows of you Nikki. Your fame has spread further than you think and there are progressive minded people in all layers of authority who feel the way you do just as much as there are the reactionaries that our current Home Secretary, Neil Haughton encourages the Neanderthals so the progressives are clinging on by their fingertips. Our report may tip the balence. The last time Frances and I discussed the matter, she told me that statements produced by you are worth their weight in gold."

"In bed I take it," quipped Nikki.

"Only after the second post-coital cigarette when we were dressed again. Sex is for sex. Business is something and somewhere different," drawled this outrageous woman whom Nikki had grown to feel very fond of.

When Nikki got back home at about six later than her normal time after dropping in her statements at the office, it was as if the car was driving her as she felt physically and emotionally drained. as she turned the ignition off, an uncanny silence greeted her ears. All through the day, she'd never been free of the sounds of slamming cell doors, echoed conversations and rattling keys and bars that raised a whole load of memories from the unquiet grave in Nikki's head. She wondered why in hell she hadn't felt that way on her previous visit perhaps she felt more threatened and less open to experience. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and tottered up the steps and into Helen's welcoming arms. She was deat beat.

"You look like you sounded earlier on," Helen said, looking closely into her partner's tired eyes."Take the weight off your legs and I'll make you a cup of tea."

"I feel like death warmed up but it's worth it," Nikki sighed softly with a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes.

"Roisin and Cassie and the children are round here. I hope you don't mind," offered Helen. Nikki looked a little disappointed as she fancied a night by themselves but their friends were relaxing company so she smiled assent.

"So how was the snake pit?" Cassie asked in her direct fashion.

"I think I've pulled off," Nikki sighed flopping into an armchair, gratefully accepting the cup of tea that Cassie passed into her hand."I think I've ended up cleaning the place up with Kristine's help. Everything cross checks and an area team will be going in and I think that Bodybag, Spiers and perhaps Di Barker are going to get sacked and Joy Masterton's position will become untenable."

Excitedly the others crowded around while Rose slept through this historic moment and Nikki answered in monosyllables. She'd always felt self conscious about narrating her triumphs and tiredness didn't help. On top of that, Rose suddenly woke up and started crying.

"I bet it's another nappy," groaned Helen and Nikki became aware that her partner was tired too.

"I'll help out. Leave it to the expert," interjected Roisin helpfully. She well remembered what it was like looking after two very young babies and not a bit of help from her ex-husband whose rigid upbringing forbade him even contemplating helping out. The grateful look in her friend's eyes told her she had decided right. Cassie looked on with interest as her partner whipped out the paraphernalia to hand and knelt down to change the still protesting Rose's nappy. Making shush shushing reassurance to the little creature, in no time at all, she'd finished and took the baby into her strong capable arms. Up till then, she'd avoided directly intervening until her friends had found their feet and now it was the right thing to do.

"What a smell," Cassie complained. The other three women looked round bemused. It went with the territory, they thought. "Only kidding," she added.

The four of them settled down to children's television to suit Michael and Niamh who were equally as comfortable here as round at their own home. They engaged in desultory chat till Nikki couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

"I'm sorry but I need to crash out. Helen gets the brunt of looking after Rose but I've never been so tired out as now."

The other three women understood but even lying in her bed with her clothes on, Nikki couldn't quite settle to sleep. The presence of human company still attracted her attention


	41. Chapter 41

In a completely different world, Jo Mills felt both excited and a little nervous as she looked at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. She was wearing a recent slinky purchase, cut short above her knees and low cut. How different it looked from her respectable attire which she used to wear in a previous incarnation to the sort of legal bashes with John. The woman who wore those clothes was someone other to the human being she is now, she concluded logically as she gave her make-up the finishing touches before clattering downstairs for her date.

A while later, she was sitting by herself at a side table on a raised level in a large restaurant. Soft glittery light time hung overhead and cast a dreamy mystical atmosphere to welcome those who'd just stepped off the cold streets outside. It induced a ruminative frame of mind as she looked down onto the couples below her seated at their intimate tables, oblivious to each other. Here they were, man, woman, man, woman. Some were so young, so impressionable, at the start of their lives sipping the first taste of sophistication, experiencing the thrills of courtship- as she had been when she'd just become engaged to her future husband, the future father of their two sons. Other couples were older with knowing expressions on their faces as they weren't with the partner each was betrothed to and she'd been there before with John Deed. Now she felt she was finally herself and she was waiting for her girlfriend to arrive. Her girlfriend- she loved the phrase and it brought back to her the conversation that had led to.

"Hey, I really fancy going out with you tonight to a nice restaurant," Jane said from out of the blue while Jo was busy wrapping up a court case that had gone her way and she was feeling perky.

"Couldn't we eat in?" Jo started to say, thinking practically and logically, having just come out of court. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd became aware she's put her foot in it.

"Darling, that's not the point," Jane answered teasingly, smiling at her lover's endearing ways and being a smart barrister for all that."It's a chance to dress up, have a nice long lingering meal and go public. I really want it for us both."

"Put that way, I'd go anywhere with you sweetheart," Jo said tenderly just as her secretary came back into the room. Jo smiled fondly to the world as they quickly thrashed out where to go and what time to meet.

It was in that frame of mind that her daydreams were rudely shattered.

"You look lonely. Mind if I join you and keep you company?" a voice called from the the side and above her. Jo turned in her seat to view with fury the a middle aged smoothie wearing a city slicker suit.

"You're picking on the wrong woman. I'm waiting for my girlfriend," Jo said in frosty tones

"Hey, you can talk to your friends anytime. That's nothing special." the man said in easy, joking tones. He'd been eyeing up for a little while this attractive woman who was dressed to kill. He was only trying to be friendly.

"When I say girlfriend, I mean female lover. Such things do exist. Do I have to draw a

diagram?" Jo retorted in curt tones, looking all around for Jane. To her incredible relief, she turned round the corner and made rapid strides in her direction.

"Hey beat it. You heard what my girlfriend said. Two's company. Three's not allowed," Jane said in forceful determined tones after which Jo got up and embraced her partner. The blond-haired woman had expected a kiss on her cheek in greeting but Jo made sure their lips met just to make the point.

"Mnnn, you taste good babes," Jane said seductively, letting her hand slide along the line of her lover's waist, a more public display of affection than she had considered. Finally, the man got the message and slunk off.

"I'm sorry my dithering over what dress to wear let you in for all that shit," Jane added apologetically.

"It's worth it. You look gorgeous," Jo beamed staring openly at the other woman's cleavage. The red dress left nothing to her imagination."Let's have a drink," she added, taking her lover's hand in her own. a wave of warmth spread through both women's systems as they sat on opposite sides of the table, the world closing in on just the two of them as they drank in the welcome sight of each other,

The evening carried on in a blissful haze, charged with restrained eroticism as they couldn't touch each other so openly as they did when they danced at Chix. The night was punctuated by one liners which had an especial depth of meaning and, after a flirtatious discussion of what they were going to eat, meant that any food that would be served would be delicious. The intricate guitar music wove its way round their senses as they ate and talked.

"Was this meal another step in me coming out as a lesbian? I do get curious, you know," Jo wheedled in her most coaxing tones that Jane found entrancing.

"Of course. I feel really good inside when I'm going out with my lover," Jane said softly, looking really beautiful as the soft lights illuminated her longish fair hair and cast shadows on the contours of her face while her eyes looked into Jo's.

All at once, the older woman impulsively slipped her foot out of her high heeled shoe and felt for the back of her lover's ankle. The naughtiness of playing footsie under the table gave Jo an especial thrill as she enjoyed touching her lover, however remotely. A broad grin spread across Jane's face as she slipped her foot out of her shoe and followed suit.

"Still waters run deep. There's way more to you than I ever suspected," she said as she finished the last morsel of her dinner.

"I'm glad you were patient with me. There's no knowing what you can do with a little encouragement. Do you really want to stay for the sweets?" Jo murmured softly.

"Tell you what. What about a strawberry ice cream? It settles on the stomach for later on. Anything that's worthwhile won't spoil with waiting a little," came the inviting response as she indicated to the impassive smartly dressed waiter who wasn't called upon to question the customer.

They finished the course and Jo indicated to pay the bill. It was her treat as the end to a satisfying day. As soon as the bill was paid and they got up, they reached for the other's hand and Jo felt a little thrill of satisfaction as she walked towards the exit, hand in hand with her lover. She could face out any number of covert looks of disapproval. Suddenly she came across a familiar face that gave her a temporary emotional jolt before the comforting feel of her lover's hand gave her access to courage.

"Why Lawrence James, I do declare. Fancy coming to the same restaurant on the same night," Jo proclaimed with great satisfaction. Obviously someone from work, Jane thought, go for it Jo. Lawrence James was dressed in his inevitable smart black suit, white shirt and tie and was seated opposite his wife, dressed in a suitable dress. Both glared up speechlessly at Jo whose manner was utterly shameless. He'd heard rumours, of course, but never thought to come across the reality in the flesh.

"This is my lover, Jane Lancaster, a highly respected nurse, nothing to do with the justice system so you can write that up for your secret files. There's no need to set your bloodhounds on me or the press either. There's no cause for me to be summoned to the professional standards committee as what have I got to hide?" Jo continued brightly in mocking tones but not so loud as to cause a disturbance. Jane put two and two together and looked on with great enjoyment.

"Just let us have our meal undisturbed," came Lawrence James' stiff-necked reply, acutely conscious of becoming the focus of unwanted attention. He was worrying what his wife might be thinking.

"Byee," was Jo's parting shot as she grinned and sashayed her way towards the exit, still holding hands. On the way out, she thanked the receptionist profusely for the meal as did Jane. Revenge was sweet, she thought as she pushed open the glass swing door.

Outside in the open, they burst into uproarious laughter at they let loose their feelings and strolled down the street. next on the menu was getting back to Jane's flat

"Come here love, I want you," Jo said, her desires suddenly flowing over. She pushed the other woman into a recess left by a charity shop frontage and began to kiss the other woman greedily and hungrily. Jane loved the feeling of this strong woman taking possession of her and exploring each other's tongues seemed well overdue. Finally, she broke surface and mumbled into the other woman's ear.

"Let's get a taxi home darling. It's too cold and public to shag out here," she said in her outrageous fashion before kissing the other woman's neck. Jo stopped feeling her partner's bare skin and reached for her mobile. It came up with a taxi firm and fortunately, they were only left on the kerb for a few minutes before piling into the back of the Hackney cab and started kissing and caressing each other once again. Somehow, it stopped at the right place and Jane peeled off a note out of her purse with a 'keep the change' call to compensate for the unavoidable sight of two women snogging on the back seat. Laughing with delight, they somehow clattered their way on high heels to the front door where Jane fumbled for agonising seconds for her key. At last, they finally piled into the warm flat, wrapped around each other and fell into a welcoming double bed. They undressed frenziedly, clothes flying every which way and at last they could ravish each other with their their mouths and fingers after spending an evening dining on exquisite food in a romantic atmosphere and suppressed lust.

While Jo's body writhed in ecstasy, she felt immersed in a perfect world where her free-floating emotions swirled round her while she felt above, below and inside her lover all at the same time. Her body and soul felt adored and she gasped for breath and exhaled her joy, knowing that her lover was with her all the way. Finally, they both had a glorious sustained orgasm together that left them spent and happily exhausted on their bed of love.

"My God, how come I had all the luck to have such a voracious lover," exclaimed Jane with the last of her breath in her lungs as she lay with her lover's legs wrapped around her.

"I'm just as lucky as you. You're gorgeous," Jo said in her customary modest fashion. Jane picked up on this.

"No really. I want to know," she pursued, with a mischievous grin on her face.

"I really don't know. I've kept fit over the years. I've fenced with high court judges over the years," Jo said, pondering the question as her head lay between her lover's breasts." I used to be captain of the school netball team," she offered brightly.

She felt a little embarrassed when she felt Jane's body shake with laughter but was mollified as gentle fingers started to stroke her hair and shoulders.

"You're amazing babes," she finally said."The more I get to know you, the more interested I get and I don't really know the work you do. There's way more to you than meets the eye but most of all, you're such a great lover but you're shy to talk about it."

"Old-fashioned British modesty," joked Jo, half at herself. It encapsulated her presence as they lay snuggled up together in the soft half-light.

"It's so nice and comfortable here," began Jo in an uncertain fashion as her sense of time returned to her. Her partner guessed what was on her mind and got in first.

"Tell you what, sweetheart. I'm on earlies this week but I can get up at six thirty, no sweat. Suppose I get you breakfast and coffee in bed and give you time to get a taxi back to your place, quick change and you phone up your place to say you're working from home and coming in a bit late. I guess you don't have to clock on. How does that grab you?" Jane said in a spirited fashion.

"That's wonderful," Jo exclaimed, drawing a breath of relief before kissing her lover's nipples softly in gratitude.

"And perhaps if you drop by another time, you leave a spare suit and shirt here in the wardrobe to make it easier. That is, if you want to." Jo picked up the rare uncertain tone in Jane's voice and went for it.

"That's an even better idea. I can do it," she said with all the warmth and conviction she could summon up. She heard the audible breath of relief in reply. This casual exchange marked a welcome shift in their relationship, a meeting of minds that had separately wondered about something like this.

"Are you really wanting to settle down to sleep? It's still fairly early." Jane said in coaxing tones. She was reassured by the way Jo gave her a gentle squeeze with her legs and slid her up the length of her and looked directly at her with her blue eyes.

" More than anything else in the world, I want you to strap it on and fuck me ."

Jane's mouth opened in momentary surprise and then her heart did a mental jump for joy inside of her. She loved Jo's sexual boldness and forwardness and realised with soft emotions that in no time at all, this woman had come on such a long way. This was her final break from the past that was setting her free. Finally, a long soft smile spread across her face.

"Anything my lady desires I'll give you," she drawled in sultry tones, her eyes misting over."I won't be long," she reassured the other woman as she slipped out of bed and reached for her bedside drawer. In no time at all she was ready and momentarily stood before Jo, her legs apart, etched against the half light from behind her.

"Darling, you look beautiful,"Jo said softly as she lay before her. The words went right through Jane's soul and tears came briefly to Jane's eyes. She knew that Jo meant every word she said. As she wiped her eyes clear, she took in the sight of her lover, ready and waiting for her, both seductive temptress and extraordinary woman combined in one. Sure enough, Jo's senses came alive to series of light kisses up the inside of her legs but the wait till she pleasured her desires was sweet torture until she slipped inside her. Jo moaned softly and shook her head from side to side knowing that her greatest pleasure was still to come. Sure enough, her centre felt temporarily abandoned as the trail of kisses continued up her body. Finally, Jane laid the whole length on top of the older woman who was entranced by the flavour and texture of her soft lips against her own. She didn't set about Jo in an unthinking sexual frenzy but pressed herself gently against the other woman's desires, carrying on seamlessly where her tongue had left off and sliding slowly and gently inside her. She reached out to run her fingers through Jane's long blond hair and clasped her loveliness all to herself. Very slowly, very exquisitely, their bodies started moving against each other, feeling each other's urges push back and forth, Jo happily wrapping her legs around her lover. Jane loved moments like this. She'd always been a forward free spirited woman and this had led her to take the initiative in all her areas of life besides love-making. She'd ended up with submissive, girly type of women with only one exception, Kristine. She knew her friend was always destined to stay on the fence and, in particular, would sleep with her judge friend while Jo Mills was all hers if she wanted it. As they made love with ever increasing abandon, Jane bathed in the joyous look of pleasure on Jo's face as she lay above her and knew what she wanted out of life. This was making love in the truest sense.

As the two women lay in each other's arms after climaxing, there was one niggling thought in Jane's mind that had to be said. If she hadn't thought in terms beyond a straightforward affair, she wouldn't have bothered thinking that way and the words were out before she knew it.

"I'm a really lucky woman," Jane said in a curiously offhand manner. "Somewhere along the line, I might have got scared and thought my sexual tastes were too weird for you for what you've been used to." After her momentary surprise that the all confident Jane could express insecurity, Jo gleaned what was on her lover's mind. All the time they'd been getting to know each other, there was one area of life they'd both refrained from talking about. Her crossing over the road was treated like Ground Zero and nothing ever really existed before that date which in one sense was true. Now it had to be faced.

"Oh darling," Jo said in such soft and tender tones that she never knew she was capable of. "You'll never have to worry about me. you have to understand that straight sex is all right for a woman if she doesn't know better." She saw at once from the questioning look in her lover's eyes that couldn't leave it at that and she was about to come to the tricky bit.

"In that situation," Jo continued carefully choosing her words. "it means he's fine till he's satisfied. Then, he turns his back on me and then settles down to sleep, thinking that I feel the same. I won't lie to you and say that I hated my life as a straight woman but I always thought there was something missing, something not quite right. I have to thank Mel Bridges for getting me to see the light but that set things up for when I first met you. It's way different with you," she said looking directly at Jane."I know you're as much for me as for yourself. I get an emotional feel that I've never experienced before. You're giving me something I never knew existed. I've never felt so good about myself in my life and it makes me long to give back."

"I bet they never taught you about this in school," laughed Jane at last, as she flexed her hips and gently moved around inside Jo in order to make her point. Jo laughed softly at the way she'd been assisted to round off her declaration of love.

"If some man ever tried it on with me, I'd tell him tough shit, you've had your chances and you've wasted them. I'm somewhere else right now and I'm into women, namely Jane Lancaster, the truest lover I could ever possibly have. Everything's fine darling, don't worry," she declared as she kissed her lover gently, playing softly with her lips and stroking her cheek tenderly with her fingertips.

Jane's soft smile and the way she hugged Jo back again was a picture, or so Jo decided. She had never spoken truer words in her life. They'd make them true between them as she luxuriated in the feel of her lover deep inside her. It was absolutely fine that Jane briefly glimpsed away from her at her bedside clock. It was only half past eleven, even though an eternity seemed to have taken place this evening. Jo smiled, knowing the purpose of this sideways was that this carefree woman never neglected essential business for them both. She knew they'd support each other and they'd be fine for getting up the next day just like they'd planned.

It was Friday April 6th 2001 that we first got together when Nikki has her record cleared," Sally Anne said soulfully as she lay underneath her lover on their wide double bed.

"God, you think of things at a time like this," chuckled Trisha softly. She had just returned her lover's favour in sliding between her legs. her tongue describing fascinating pleasures on her that still lit her in the afterglow of their lovemaking. They had lain together in a soft hazily illuminated idyll that seemed to last ages. There was no haste, there was no rush.

"Living with you has made me feel; so free. Everything before then is BC," Sally Anne insisted. She marvelled at the beauty of her lover, as if suspended overhead. Her long blonde hair was thrown back across her shoulders, her fringe falling over her forehead. Her shadowed blue eyes shone in the soft light of their bedroom, her shapely straight nose leading down to soft, exquisitely parted lips, the light of love glowing. She also loved the feel of her lover, straddling her with her legs.

"I'm not that old," laughed Trisha before saying words not easily won from her. These were not just post-coital nothings but meant sincerely. "I love you too."

"You look so gorgeous," Sally Anne sang as she looked at the beauty before her eyes. Trisha stroked her neck and long black hair in gratitude.

"You feel so gorgeous," Sally-Anne sighed as she gently and expertly stroked her lover's smooth back. Trisha felt in seven heaven at the way her dark-haired woman knew what floated her boat. She knew that this was leading up to something good as Sally Anne ran her tongue along her opened lower lip.

"And most of all, you taste so good," Sally Anne finished, slowly lingering over every syllable. Trisha laughed softly with pleasure, her little conundrum solved as her lover's eager tongue sought out her own in a long, deep kiss redolent of the pleasures of their earlier lovemaking. Both women were persuaded that their pleasures hadn't ended and they had energy to spare and their bodies started moving against each other...


	42. Chapter 42

On a sunny and breezy day on Wednesday April 2nd, Nikki found herself confronted by the reality of writing up her report of her follow up investigation into G Wing Larkhall Prison and she found herself hitting an insufferable snag so she turned to Paul's help. He strolled in, seeing his friend obviously stressed out and finally saying, "So what do I do Paul?" He could never resist the appealing look in his friend's big brown eyes and saw that she had a point.

"Don't beat your head up trying to find a solution. Just define your problem and get it out into the open," he said in his easy going tones. Nikki took a deep breath and exhaled all her lung capacity as if she were smoking, It did the trick.

"I looked at my previous report and so much of it has changed," she said for a start.

"That's no big deal. Hasn't all that privatisation crap with Lynford Securities gone out the window. You've got Joy Masterton's reactionary boot camp regime instead."

"You've been listening Paul," Nikki answered with a ghost of a smile on her lips. She wondered if he was seriously throwing out a few random lines for her to borrow. It certainly eased her state of mind.

"Your problem is that you've been reporting on a regime where the old guard who are battling for control are likely to be overthrown by your work and Kristine's when you're limited by the format of a quarterly magazine. My advice is to get down what you saw while it's still fresh and consider writing an appendix at a later date."

Nikki nodded. That made sense and she could get her head round that

"Suppose you tell me in a few words how it feels right now. Forget the academic approach which you do well at, say it as you feel," Paul said, fixing his friend with his gaze. Well done, Paul, Nikki thought thankfully. This is right up Helen's street. She let her mind run free and the words formulated themselves.

"Like the Walls of Jericho are about to come down and it's been a long time coming," Nikki said with deep feeling. "Once you've run your eye over it, I'll e mail it to Kristine.".

"Then go to it. I know you can," Paul said in his reassuring way and Nikki's nimble fingers started flying over her keyboard.

A few hours later, Nikki leant back in her chair with a satisfied feeling that she'd made a good start as a fair chunk of her stored up information and associated emotions had been committed to her first draft on her computer screen. She knew that she'd eventually produce a tightly worded document , duly spell-checked at the end of the day. First of all, she got up from her desk and brewed up a mug of tea from the hot water point in the sparse communal kitchen where once she'd have lit up a cigarette. She was due to take her lunch break and she felt like some fresh air. At that point, her phone rang. It was reception asking if a Mr Wade could come up and see her.

"Tell him to come upstairs," a nonplussed Nikki asked just as Paul drifted into the room, sensing that she'd finished her composition. The soft tread of footsteps on the stairs was replaced by a vision of a man, a little older than herself, dressed in a blue pinstripe suit looking nervous and restless. Nikki couldn't believe her eyes- it was as if a number nine London bus appeared down a country lane.

"Fancy you coming here," Nikki said in a high, strained voice, her long standing antipathy towards her brother battling with her ingrained good manners. "Still, I wouldn't want to be accused of being inhospitable. I was going to take my lunch break Paul. This is Paul Armstrong, my boss and good friend."

Paul felt how uncomfortable Nikki was, having heard her few bitter references to her estranged brother. He willingly stepped into the breach as peacemaker and shook the guy's hand for Nikki's sake.

"We don't keep people chained to the galleys these days. Unless I'm mistaken, Nikki's just written a particularly difficult report and deserved a break. You'll have to get used to our Spartan facilities unless you fancy the pub fifty yards up the road. I can hold the fort if you want it," Paul said in his most relaxing tones. Nikki smiled gratefully at him and John Wade sensed a side to her sister's life he'd never come across before. It had taken him all his courage to make this move knowing that his fierce spirited sister might easily tell him to piss off so he was edgy in any case. The two of them looked at each other indecisively for a minute or so until Nikki made an indistinct but definite move and John tailed in after her. when they got outside, the spring sunshine brightened the world around them.

"Fancy a drink?" Nikki asked brightly. Secretly, she wasn't sure whether this would work out but she resolved to give it her best shot. Her day had started well after all.

"The last time we shared anything, it was a strawberry split our father bought us at the seaside," John said with perfect seriousness. That made Nikki laugh without thinking and for a second John's pride was hurt and he started to get angry, thinking she was laughing at him. Nikki got in quickly as she remembered the sea air, the summer sunshine and her bare feet while they waited for their father in the queue.

"Don't get me wrong John. What you said is perfectly true but I was laughing with you at the humour of the situation. After all the drama and divisions over the years we need to lighten up. I mean it about the drink."

To her relief, her tactful interjection had caught his runaway bad mood just in time. For the first time, John was enabled to see the absurdity of him standing on his high horse and he also laughed briefly. Together they strolled up the road and he let Nikki lead the way into the bar.

"What are you having John? It's my round," she offered. She got in the two half of lagers and settled in a corner table. In the pause while they sipped at their drinks, John felt it was incumbent on him to explain how come he'd poled back into her life after years of estrangement. It was the case of now or never.

"I expect you're wondering how come I've suddenly looked you up after all these years," John started to say very awkwardly as the full impact of his U turn started to hit him. He started to feel very self conscious so Nikki stepped into the breach.

"The only thing matters is we're both here and one of us made the first move," Nikki said softly. John was conscious that his feeling of gratitude for her was his first positive feeling for years. It made it easier to talk rather than being choked by his emotions.

"I remember the last row we had at our parents last December. You told me that I needed to stop fighting the situation that you and you suspected I had enough real problems. You were right." Nikki pricked up her ears sensing new territory. He'd never before admitted that he was wrong.

"Tell me about it. I'm your sister after all," Nikki said softly. At that moment sunlight filtered into the pub and John had to admit that his sister was very striking in her dark stylish suit, short boyish looking hair, fair complexion and striking brown eyes. She looked intelligent and alert and John was emboldened to plug ahead. He had tried to figure things out for himself and he was at his wit's end.

"You know some of the background anyway as I acted as solicitor in a number of cases where you either gave evidence or were in the witness box. Over and over you wondered in effect why in hell I took on these cases, the Sally Anne how compensation case, the Karen Betts trial, my idiotic behaviour at the judge's name it, I got it hideously wrong."

Nikki couldn't help screwing her eyes tight shut as a kaleidoscope of legal battles whirled through her nervous system, images of sharp tilting courtrooms, the paraphernalia of legal wigs and robes, memories of her Helen and others fighting with words to secure innocence and weeks of sweat and nervousness before the trials. with an extreme effort of will, she told herself that those days were past, the victories won and she wrenched her attention back to John who was on the verge of crying. She jumped straight in on what lay behind this.

"So why did you take these cases," Nikki asked as gently as she could, laying her hand on his arm. This gesture prompted John to gulp down a mouthful of lager and talk.

"I joined my law firm years ago and I was so pleased to be accepted. It was fine at first and changed so slowly I never noticed. Everyone else bent with the wind. It ended up doing the government's dirty work. I was trapped. I wasn't strong enough to stand up to the senior partner who caused all this. I had to pretend to be like him, like the others. I did and said a lot of bad things and that's why I was so angry with you. It's all a load of bollocks, I tell you."

Nikki was wide-eyed with intense sympathy for her brother. She could see it all so clearly and knew that his stiff and proud nature would stop him letting on. Another would be escapee from an impossible situation. She had the answer.

"You can get out of this mess John. I know a law firm headed by Helen's old friend, Claire Walker. She's short of a solicitor after the head of the practice was imprisoned for his part in a mortgage fraud ring."

"She'd never have me," John said miserably,"I know her reputation and I've seen her in court. She's bound to prefer some young up and coming solicitor who hasn't compromised himself like I've done."

"You never know till you try John. I'm phoning Claire up right now. I'm not in favour of pulling strings any more than dad is but I'd gladly do this for you. What have you got to lose?" insisted Nikki, urgent to grasp the moment. Inwardly, John was once again a little boy who'd grazed his knee and having sticking plaster put on it by a sympathetic nurse and he didn't mind that Nikki assumed the role.

When Claire received the phone call, she was looking mournfully at the mounting pile of cases the practice had to deal with in the two weeks since Jim Patterson had been imprisoned. She had personally got to the bottom of Jim Patterson's cases as she wanted to ensure there were no more skeletons in the cupboard upon which his secretary had resigned and a replacement finally recruited. She had spent an infinite amount of work getting the practice along her lines and then the phone rang. what Nikki had to say was mixed news as she knew John Wade's practice only too well. It was only when Nikki insisted that her brother had seen the light and needed above else someone to steer him in the right direction that Claire came to a definite decision to interview him herself and, if things panned out as promised to take him on. She reasoned that if Nikki had altered her habits of a lifetime and had faith in her brother, he would be capable of taking up the slack as an experienced solicitor after a suitable period of supervision by herself. She wanted to help Nikki and judged that it was the correct business decision. At the other end of the phone while John agonised as his fate hung in the balance, Nikki's face lit up and she signed off the phone conversation.

"You've done it? I can't believe it," John asked incredulously, unable to believe his ears as Nikki automatically mouthed the words that Claire had said to her John should present himself formally at Claire's practice at 10.30 tomorrow and she reeled off the address. It wasn't too far from her own place of work and she figured that it was in an unpretentious lived in area, neither flashy and modern nor in a a trashed out estate. Personally, to John's dazzled mind, even if he had to walk past a load of drunks to get to the new office door, that would be all right by him.

"I can't believe it myself. I hadn't planned on this at all. I've never done anything like this before except when I hired and fired barmaids when I ran Chix with Trisha," Nikki said absent-mindedly with a faraway look in her eye. "You're back in business kid. This calls for another drink."

John slumped back in his seat, all the tension draining away from his body as he shook his head incredulously. He was already feeling the shackles falling off him, all the years of protective self-deception in being the breadwinner doing an important job.

"Definitely my round. I am really in your debt," he started to say as his old awkwardness threatened to stop him behaving the way he really felt. "You've saved my life. This is some kind of reconciliation. If I get the job this means we see a lot more of each other starting with Helen and your daughter. Same again Nicola? You don't mind me calling you that?"John said in soft grateful tones. He really was a nice guy once all the superficial surfaces had been stripped off him.

"Sure. You and our parents are used to it. It's all part of the deal," Nikki said in reassuring tones.

A little while later after they'd left the pub, John suddenly hugged Nikki in gratitude. She suspected that tears of gratitude were coming from his eyes but she knew he'd be the kind of guy who wouldn't let on about that kind of emotional stuff but he'll learn, Nikki thought fondly.

At the end of the day, Nikki's neatly composed report lay in Paul's in tray and he studied it, impeccably crafted as always but with less of a sense of repressed tension and more of a feeling of calm control. Time was on her, and their side, it said. Paul wondered how, in the tumult of the day she managed to maintain such calm control but that's Nikki all over, he thought fondly. Just before she went home to Helen, Rose and their family life, she told him about her emotional reconciliation with her brother John and it somehow didn't surprise him. He'd worked out at the time that his close friend's run of successes had given her inner contentment and she'd spotted the look of desperation in her brother's eyes. After all this feisty woman was ,at heart a real softie.

"Since my previous report 18 months ago, possibilities have revived and opened up which, at this time of writing, means that G Wing's future is in the balance.

Pleasingly, the previous privatisation management ethos has dissipated as if had never existed but its old-fashioned boot-camp replacement would resurrect old frictions known by this writer if left unchecked. Happily, a humanitarian opposition which treats prisoners as human beings that has been intermittently present these past few years has flowered anew. It isn't contained in mission statements but its daily practice is that prisons work well with the cooperation of prisoners. This fortunately dovetails with a dominance of strong minded women with an instinct for communal welfare.

Nowhere has this been more put to the test by the treatment of an educated, blind woman held on two weeks remand. Plans laid for the most severe test of imaginative equal opportunities creation came close to being undermined and undone by the very same cynical, prejudiced prison officers who consider that top of the job description list is jailer and who saw this particular woman on remand as a threat. Only by sheer luck and prompt action by the better sort of prison officers and prisoners was disaster avoided.

On the plus side, prison education staff do their best to fill the gaps left by a cycle of dysfunctional upbringing, education deficiencies and lack of self esteem. However, it is a source of wonder why the 'lifer's unit' which was founded several years ago to give a sense of self worth and hope for the future for lifers who are most prone to fall into a state of negativity. Of greatest concern is that, despite my previous recommendation, the medical unit attached to the prison continues to not take advantage of gaining access to freely available NHS medical records despite the clear success of a previous talented senior medical officer. In ignoring the obvious truth that prisoners have past lives in society, the spurious counter argument was deployed of the current medical expertise. This continues to duck the obvious point that unless you ask the right questions, in medical matters as much as any other area of life, you won't get the right answers.

However, my conclusion is that, unlike before, there is more of a will to critically reappraise current working practices and ideas and I can only hope that my optimism is justified as Larkhall Prison is not immune from the worrying national trend of an increasing prison population which negates the cliché of 'tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime.'

It was just another day when Bodybag plodded her weary way into Larkhall but at least her world was returning to normal after her deadliest troublemaker Wade trod all over G Wing as cheeky as can be. She'd seen the back of her along with that stuck up Ms Thorne, her superior ways and that damned white stick, tap tapping away and she'd cracked the whip over interfering do gooders like Geeson and Hedges. Truth be told, she had been a little concerned for a few days over a few unfortunate irregularities but there was nothing like a good cup of tea first thing which even Madam's meeting couldn't spoil. She reassured herself that no news was good news but it after the meeting when she was on her rounds, she couldn't help thinking there was some joke at her expense that she was the only one not to get it.

At the same time, Frances Myers had cut her way down that well-remembered path to Larkhall Prison and had set up stall in Lou Stoke's office. In her briefcase was both Nikki Wade's reports the first of which she'd been the only one to study intently when it had come out while her colleagues scoffed at. Included with her most recent report were associated statements and everything combined to be dynamite. She was sure she now had the goods on Bodybag, Spiers as never before and even Di Barker if she could be pinned down. Selena Geeson had acted as her escort against prying eyes and her formal greeting of this dark-haired full breated woman had triggered a mutual gaydar exchange unknown to anyone else. Once she'd set up her paperwork in Lou's office, her mind was focussed and she was ready to roll.

"Good morning Mrs Hollamby. We meet again. I have business to discuss with you," Frances Myers said in just the right slightly forbidding manner to take the older woman aback, her mouth opening in the perfect zero shape. Colin Hedges had passed on a message to go to Lou Stoke's room as he'd been briefed. As predicted, she'd been put on the back foot and went through various stages of shock, anger, ingratiation, manipulation of the facts and finally threats as she took a witness statement.

"You'll be hearing from my General Secretary. We're on very good terms, have been for years," bellowed the flustered woman as she was suspended pending a final decision by the head of the Prison Service. Frances ignored this bluff and bluster as she wound up the interview. Even as she stomped off, she readied herself for the second out of her hitlist of three, having ensured via her assistants there would be no collusion.

The POA General Secretary sat in a pensive mood at his desk while trails of cigarette smoke eddied upwards from the cigarette in his left hand. Suddenly, the phone's jangle interrupted his thoughts on his forthcoming speech to the POA Conference.

"It's Mrs Hollamby here, General Secretary," an ingratiating voice sounded in his ear. Instantly, he'd placed this infernal woman. Ages ago, they'd both been conference delegates from rival branches and she'd spoken on this hang them and flog them motion proposed by her reactionary branch and she'd been pulled to pieces by all and sundry. A few years ago, she'd spoken to him, insisting that he give her official backing on a walkout over some prisoner who'd been taken off the block. She'd committed a series of sins, number one blithely ignoring the trade union laws that stopped unballoted walkouts, number two in ignoring conference policies on treatment of prisoners and number three in being so arrogantly demanding. He directed a few precise questions to get her to explain her problems and he promised he'd do the best he could after shooting down the idea of strike action. An hour or so later, he asked the full timer for the area to conduct a watching brief and not to be expected to work miracles for a cause that was already lost even before he'd taken it on.


	43. Chapter 43

It was over a week since Kristine had finished her two week stay in Larkhall Prison and she had settled back into her familiar pattern of delivering lectures and marking essays and she had wrapped up her part of her research project in record time. Somehow, life was a little bit different as the shadows of the fast friendships she'd forged at Larkhall never quite left her. It was as if they were looking over her shoulder in their kindly fashion in whatever she did or said about prisons. It wasn't as if this disturbed her- in fact she got quite accustomed to the idea so long as she had her personal space when she really needed it.

She picked out the word document containing her carefully crafted speech for the Howard League of Penal Reform Annual General Meeting and let her screen-reader play it back to her in that automated voice that sighted people had such trouble in following but she found easy. Quite unusual for her, she'd drafted her speech in a fit of enthusiasm when Nikki had told her that she was due to be the guest speaker. Once more, warm emotions had flooded through her that she'd come in from the cold and everything she'd striven for in her was once again validated. The inspiration of the moment recalled her dissertation for her MA which she'd lovingly preserved and she re-examined it. She'd done a good piece of academic work at the time but she had known that it needed rewording to become suitable as speech material. When she'd done it, she felt that her speech sounded good as her screen reader had originally played it back to her. It would make a suitable impact on her audience, having attended the previous year's AGM. All the various research studies pointed towards prisoners being cursed by more than their fair share of educational disadvantages which hadn't been remedied whilst in prison in any systematic fashion so that sooner or later they ended up re-offending after being discharged from prison. Now as the shadow of Denny Blood, the Julies and Pat Kerrigan closed around her, she sensed their strengths and weaknesses and traces of her touching naivete and she wondered if after years of institutionalisation, they would ever establish themselves back on the outside however grounded they were in the highly artificial world of Larkhall Prison. After all, she'd briefly experiences that deadening sense of boredom which her friends had got to live with. It made Kristine pose herself the question as to which was the greater truth, the academic abstractions in which she lived and the flesh and blood people whom she had got to know and she concluded that both told the truth in their different ways.

It was at that moment that Nikki's e mail floated into her in-box. She opened it up and a smile spread across her face at the trenchant views expressed, together with the written statements which she decided needed to be anonymized. She decided straightaway that this piece of writing and her academic study bookended nicely against each other. It was the perfect solution.

George and Alice continued to pursue their hectic careers where one day rolled along after another, one or the other hunched over a laptop in the evening or Alice being called out late. It was only just now that George recalled in her lunch break at court how Helen and Nikki had had a baby and they'd been there and they'd made promises in their hearts and in words that they'd be part of a circle of aunts for their baby. George was particularly conscience stricken as, after all, she was a mother herself even though she felt she hadn't made a particularly good showing of it. Still, she'd had her brief moment of glory when she'd cradled a tiny Charlie in her arms in a hospital bed and all her relatives, especially her father and John and his family had clustered round proudly. She found a handy corner of the court, took out her mobile and prayed that Alice would pick it up. Fortunately she was in luck.

"Oh my God, I'd completely forgotten as well," Alice exclaimed, feeling guilt ridden as she was apt to do."We have to go round and see them. I want to go anyway."

"Good," George replied, pleased that Alice's heart was positively engaged in the plan."What about going right after work if I fix it with Helen?"

 **"** I'll make time," Alice said determinedly."There's nothing that is desperately urgent that can't be put off." George grinned at her partner's reply and made the second phone call, aware of the passing time before she had to get back to business.

As John Wade drove into the city, he had the most peculiar sensation of automatic instinct telling him he was off his accustomed route and something was wrong. Then he laughed softly at this foolishness as, for once, he was on the right path in life. As he drew closer, he was a little nervous, glancing sideways at his brief case packed with all his accustomed learning and hoped it would suffice. The chilly reception given to his inexplicable resignation from his old practice mattered no more than the stinginess of his severance package as he placed his faith in Claire Walker's good nature and this took him into the cramped car park at the back of the practice. He could live with minimal trappings of his accumulated position as his sister's place of work was equally modest. The die was cast with no going back and he took in his stride the slightly faded nineteen thirties furnishings inside the solid wood front door and brass plaque outside. Once he would have despised everything in life that wasn't slick or sleek but that was another person. Nikki had hinted to him that rebuilding his career and personality from scratch wasn't like taking out an old car engine and tightening the nuts on its replacement. It was more like someone saying goodbye to his addiction and facing the world anew, reborn.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Claire Walker glide towards him with a pleasant smile on her face and shake his hand.

"Welcome to the firm John. It's nice to see you. Let me show you your office and I'll introduce you to Fiona, your secretary. I've gone over your desk with some polish to make sure all is well. Take your time to get settled in and when you're ready, I'll introduce you to your colleagues."

John's heart warmed towards this woman who was relaxing company and this was better than the chilly, competitive atmosphere he'd left behind. His secretary was very helpful, showing him where to stow his belongings and explained how the office system worked. She gave him the feeling that he would be looked after, a feeling that was reinforced when he met the others in the firm. He couldn't wait to get stuck in, not even when Claire said she'd give his work a once over to check they were working along the same lines.

Karen had treated herself to an afternoon off work seeing that Beth was supposedly working from home. The two women were sprawled out on the settee while the spring sunshine shone through the big window of their flat, bathing them in golden rays. They remained silent as both of them were tired out. Suddenly the phone rang.

"Oh shit," exclaimed Karen at the unwanted interruption. Beth lay there listlessly while the fair haired woman wearily picked up the phone. To her mingled shock and surprise, it was her son Ross, his voice sounding curiously different. all the same, she was on the defensive, suspecting that money was the reason for the call.

"Hi mum, long time no hear," he said in a self-deprecating fashion.

"What do you want?" Karen answered rather ungraciously.

"Nothing from you. I've done what you asked and I'm working at the supermarket checkout."

"You are?" Karen answered, caution at being greeted by a false dawn battling with a will to believe once again. "I'm really glad for you." Ross sped off into an account of his working like which sounded mundane to an outsider by Karen knew meant a lot to him in reestablishing his self respect. He paused for a second and the woman on the other end of the phone knew he was steeling himself for the real task in hand.

"It's not paradise but it will do. After all, you're back working in the hospital. I'm on my break and I know that you and Beth are busy women. I just wanted us to get to know each other again, maybe see each other. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't as I know I've acted like an idiot in the past."

Karen looked round at Beth who nodded in agreement. She knew that Karen hadn't really locked her son out of her mind.

"Tonight is as OK as any night," Karen said softly

"That would be great. Beth as well obviously. You tell me when I can call," Ross said with an audible sigh of relief..

"Not sure what time you finish so what about seven o clock?"she said tentatively. The die was cast and she exhaled her breath. She hoped it wasn't yet another of her well-meaning mistakes, a surrender to male charm which she'd thought she'd sworn off repeating.

"That's fine by me. I don't normally get back too early," Ross answered with genuine pleasure. Had she done right, the thought haunted her but she could only give it her best shot. A powerful shot of surprise ran through Karen's system as she realised her son was actually being considerate.

"What do we do till then?" Karen asked, turning her head to face her partner. She was entranced to see that the dark-haired woman had suddenly transformed herself as she lay back with her legs crossed, her short skirt revealing a delectable expanse of thigh. The top few buttons of her black shirt had become mysteriously unbuttoned and she extended her arms forward in front of her.

"You know stress is the number one killer these days," she said slowly, emphasising every syllable. "The best cure for it is if we shag the senses out of each other, have a shower together, order a takeaway and we'll feel good and relaxed for Ross so you can deal with anything. Karen glanced at her watch and with a smile on her face, she slid on top of her lover, hands reaching greedily for each other to unbutton and unzip and to reach each other's treasured places. With time being more limited, there was more urge to make the most of it.

Claire was rather surprised when John proudly told her that he'd finished the cases that she'd left with his secretary so she could take his measure. She went through them in her unhurried fashion and she was concerned when she detected flaws in the paperwork, not in the obvious tasks but in skipping over certain checks that she would have made. She sighed, considering how to phrase her words and she suspected that the man's basic intelligence and legal knowledge wasn't lacking but that his previous law firm worked that way. it explained the number of court cases she'd been involved with that had misfired for this very reason.

When John heard his boss very kindly and regretfully pointing out his omissions, he was mortified and blushed with embarrassment. The last thing he wanted to do was to let his saviour down.

"That's not the way I've worked," he said curtly, his mouth operating ahead of his mind. This wasn't what he wanted to say, he cursed himself. Claire looked at him with infinite pity which only made him feel worse.

"You work fast, I grant you. Is this your natural style or what your previous employer expected of you?" she said, engaging his downcast gaze with her eyes. This was the moment of truth time, a little voice told him and, after pausing for reflection, told the truth.

"My last firm dinned it into everyone to keep the work flowing and don't look beyond what is required," he said slowly, the tension starting to ease out of him.

"And is that how you worked when you first qualified as a solicitor?" she pursued in her mild-mannered fashion.

"No it was not," he confessed, getting some of that strung up tension out of his system to Claire's relief. This was working out better than she had feared. "When I first started working, we were told to ensure the quality is right."

"You cast your mind back to how you used to work, imagine you are that person and tell me what you need to do on each case. Take your time and count to ten before you speak. That was my mother's advice to me," she said very softly.

That did the trick. He threw off the last shackles off his mind and explained clearly and lucidly what he intended to do, apologising at the end for the time it would take.

"That's really excellent. That's the way I want you to work. After each case, make sure you pause for reflection. That's your fail safe device."

"Do you want these cases back after I've done?" John asked, feeling a little nervous at being the new boy once again.

"Do what you're going to do with them and all future cases and remember, if you ever want any advice on any cases, my door is open and I'll be only too happy to help."

A warm grateful smile spread across John's face. For the first time, it struck her that he was a little like his sister. She made a mental note that at some point in the future, he'd take on some of the court work but she wouldn't tell him till the man felt more sure of himself. Claire walked back to her office feeling glad that she'd done right.

When George drove down the rapidly darkening streets set against the twilight to Helen and Nikki's flat, mixed feelings swirled around her traditional lack of maternal feelings. She recalled how right from the start John Deed had edged his way ahead of her in the parenting role so when their marriage had broken down, Charlie grew up mostly with him. Something within her felt frozen and awkward in naturally relating to her baby that she'd brought into the world. She wasn't the mother she was expected to be and Charlie's taunts of 'the ice maiden' rang cruelly true to her so much that a hard self-protective shell grew around her that was only softened when she met Alice. The hospital visit found all of them buoyed up by the flood of maternal feelings from all the women present. This time, as George parked the car in the side-street, she felt emotionally exposed.

"What's wrong darling?" Alice asked softly, gently stroking her cheek with her long fingers. That gesture took the edge off George's nerves and she knew she had to talk.

"I know I sound frightfully stupid but I'm scared. I'm not the normal maternal type of woman," George finally confessed, her hand sweeping through her hair in an irrational gesture. Alice spotted it straightaway.

"Who is a maternal woman?!" countered Alice. "I know I see the worst that society has to offer and I've no personal track record but I'm convinced that being a mother is learnt, not innate. In any case, you're on good enough terms with Charlie so you must have had something to do with it. You don't see much of her as she's busy being independent, young and free like we've all been."

"You're right darling," George said and she hugged her lover affectionately in the darkness. "I'm not the mother this time."

"Right you are," Alice reassured her.

Of course the visit to Helen and Nikki was warm and enjoyable as it had always been. George saw Rose and was entranced. She had no problems in picking up the offspring of their friends and she felt right at home. The past need not be repeated.

Karen took one look at the strange young man who greeted her right on time. He was casually dressed in trainers, jeans and a grey GAP top but he looked clean. His blue eyes looked straight into hers with no evasion- it was strange that she'd not noticed them for ages. It had been a long time since there was anything like a shared intimacy, just before he went off to university when he'd been working hard on his studied for all the wrong reasons. This time, they were distant strangers gradually getting the feel of each other once again. He was polite enough to herself and Beth who briefly retired to make them all a cup of tea for the three of them. He was a little awkward to begin with but so was she.

As they sat there talking in this comfortable room, Ross started asking questions about the black period in her life when she'd been framed for a hit and run murder and sacked from the prison service. Karen had just enough self-control to stop herself from fending off the questions as she saw that this man's interest was his way of apologising for being self-obsessed. He had that curious knack of looking all around him.

"Do you know, mum, I never knew you had it so tough. I'm glad you've rebuilt your life and you've got Beth. I can see she means a lot to you."

"That's just what I was going to say about you Ross," Karen found herself saying awkwardly. Ross responded with a forgiving smile.

"My girlfriend's coming to pick me up later on. Maybe I'll introduce her to you both some time. I'll make sure and treat her right." Karen smiled back in approval.

The tentative glances that passed between mother and son expressed the shared knowledge that they had a long way to go before they'd be comfortable with each other. This was a start and Beth was included in the picture, something Karen would never have believed was ever possible.


	44. Chapter 44

It was and increasingly regular habit of Neil Haughton to drop in on Lawrence James and vice versa for two such imperious members of the ruling class in linked positions. It was a matter of good government for two such allied arms of government to coordinate their activities at the level that mattered, Neil Haughton found that Lawrence James was less infected by old fashioned civil service protocol as Sir Ian Rochester had been and he had a ruthless sense of realism about him. However, this day wasn't good news for them. Both of them were rigid with anger as copies of the Times, Independent and Guardian were spread all over Lawrence James' desk and the Independent's article was the one under scrutiny. The trouble was that even this staid report was maddeningly right for all the wrong reasons or was it the other way round? Both of them had calculated that the strident lesbian harpy who had skewered the basic principles of law and order would put in a repeat performance this time around but she'd come up with a report that was infuriatingly moderate in offering measured congratulation of Larkhall Prison and, by implication, the prison service as a whole. This deprived them of the obvious gambits by which she could be smeared as the idea of using the Official Secrets Act last time had signally failed. What worried them most was the dashing of their certainty that the right kind of people had come out on top. Both of them had supposed that Guardian carrying liberals had secured their hold at the sharp end of law and order. Only the Daily Mail and the Sun had gone for the jugular but this gave them scant comfort.

A further blow to their collective self-esteem was the prison service investigation that had come out of nowhere so that a number of prison officers had been sacked and the governing governor had been pushed out of whom good things had been said.

"This isn't acceptable, Lawrence. The press is more favourable than I liked. Why aren't we getting a grip on our workforce?" complained Neil Haughton peevishly. In another desk in the offices of the Independent, Beth Pritchard smiled slightly at one of the articles that was written on this topic. She knew she'd have done a better job of it with less measured waffle but it had to do to get past the censor.

Amongst his prescribed anger, Lawrence James was secretly pleased that this latest political gaffe was in Neil Haughton's department, not his but he kept his thoughts to himself. It was bad politics to risk burning bridges where they were useful.

"We sympathise with your problems. We're still finding that judges are as unruly as ever but that's not new. I haven't found a way to bring them into line but the influence of the Guardian reader is limited these days, I assure you," Lawrence James said in judicious tones.

"I notice the Howard League for Penal Reform AGM is on the horizon. They're asking for me to be guest speaker," Neil Haughton said in tones of distaste.

"You don't sound enthusiastic," ventured the other man

"I'm definitely not. Too much like enemy territory for my taste. I'll send the junior minister for the Prison Service. That's what he's there for. Besides, you have to hack your way up the ladder before you get the plum jobs and that isn't it. It'll be his job to put over the party line. I understand that the second speaker fits into the ultimate fashionable political minority, some blind bisexual academic called Ms Thorne. I understand she's white so she's let down the politically correct brigade somewhat," Neil Haughton said with an ugly sneer, laughing as he spoke and Lawrence James dutifully joined in. Personally,. he couldn't for the life of him understand that a blind person could pronounce on anything apart from her woes and look for sympathy for her disabilities. He couldn't work out what the risk was to their position.

"It's his job to set the agenda for the meeting. Whoever is first in for batting will decide how the match goes. She'd not John Deed so I suppose we have that advantage," he pronounced confidently enough. Neil Haughton clung to that consolation. If only the general public knew that a life in politics wasn't an easy one, he thought with morose resentment against the world in general.

Nikki passed by the newsagent on the corner of the street where she worked, resisted the temptation to buy a packet of cigarettes and, scanned through the shelves. A grin split her face as she saw the Sun headline."Prisoners Rule OK? Never." She picked up the Daily Mail as well as the more literate of the reactionary papers. She could not believe her eyes as its vitriolic denunciation of the idea of prisons being run with the agreement of prisoners was the best inverted compliment she'd ever had and recalled what she'd first told Helen way back when. She scooped in the Guardian and Independent as well and clattered off to work.

"Snap," called out Paul gleefully to her, pulling out his own copy of the Sun."This has made my day."

"I'd normally feel more comfortable buying a magazine from an adult only shop than buying this shit but I've made an exception. After all, I've got the real thing at home,"grinned Nikki, pleased beyond measure at her boss's insouciant lack of concern at seeing part of the press ranged against them.

"I'm pinning our copy on the notice board as long as I can stand it. You deserve the credit," replied Paul grinning at Nikki's little joke.

At Larkhall Prison, Julie Johnson got hold of a copy of the Sun and whooped with joy, drawing in Julie Johnson, Denny and Kris Yates.

"Nikki's done us proud," Julie Saunders exclaimed, beaming all over her face. Lou Stokes passed by and allowed herself a discreet smile while showing the new Principal Officer the ropes and caught Pat Kerrigan's studiedly innocent expression and this confirmed in her mind what Kristine Thorne had been up to as her release and the report being splashed all over the papers seemed too coincidental. Dr Dunlop was mysteriously unavailable that day.

There followed a period where life became more tranquil for all the diverse lives who were interconnected in this drama as Helen religiously noted down details in Rose's pink coloured baby book of her gradual development and growth so that a load more babygros needed buying. Life at Chix continued as before with flashing lights and glamorous women and the triumvirate of John, Joseph and Monty reigned supreme in the freedoms they'd carved for themselves. The sun rose every morning, lines of cars drove into the heartlands of London and life had purpose in it as spring gave way to full blooming summer.

Events moved on for the Howard League of Penal Reform as the day of their AGM was coming closer. Paul Armstrong had won the battle against Peter Jenkins a month earlier over the choice of speakers. He'd agreed to Neil Haughton if available and had gone out to bat for Kristine Thorne. After John Deed had been such a spectacular success the year before, Paul's position had been strengthened and he'd got his way. When Paul heard later on that day that some nameless, here today gone tomorrow junior minister for the Prison Service was going to take Neil Haughton's place, he was not displeased. As the date pencilled in on the calendar for Monday May 11th 2003, it was time for Kristine to finally take stock.

So it was that Kristine reread her carefully prepared speech and compared it with the flood of thoughts on her experiences at Larkhall Prison, she became thoughtful as the sounds of the wind chimes by her window tinkled gently. She knew that both accounts told the truth in their different ways and she knew she needed feedback for her various ideas and passed up on Nikki as she knew her friend was busy, especially with the whole conference to prepare for. John Deed and Frances Myers both had equal claims. It wasn't until she recalled how Frances Myers had once gone underground at Larkhall as a prisoner a year or so back that her mind was made up. She'd talk things over with Frances that evening at her flat and sleep with her. She smiled to herself at the prospect with great satisfaction.

"Shall have to be business before pleasure?" Frances Myers drawled archly, wearing her favourite slinky clothes to wear for her tryst with Kristine. Her work colleagues would never have thought this guise was possible as her daytime manner was tough and no nonsense with clothes to match. She'd been pursuing this lacklustre affair with this guy and when her mobile had rung earlier on and Kristine came on the phone, she mentally jumped for joy. She and Kristine were like two passing ships who bumped into each other in the night- and a little bit more. As she drank in the pleasures in store for them both, it intrigued her as to what her guide dog had witnessed or heard concerning his mistress's sexual goings on over the years.

"Definitely pleasure first starting with something to eat first," Kristine answered in her seductive tones. Frances' smile widened as this chimed in perfectly with her own ideas. She even had no problems in letting this woman take over her kitchen which was the measure of how the two of them meshed together.

"So let's have a look at your speech and your experiences of Larkhall," Frances said softly, the following morning as she was wearing a bathrobe from her early morning shower. Kristine couldn't believe her friend's mental application. She'd been like a tigress in bed and the two women had made love with furious energy and here she was up with the lark rather than lying in a state of post coital bliss. Kristine smiled and fumbled inside her handbag for the floppy disc she'd brought with her. Frances automatically felt for the piece of plastic and Kristine lay back in her ample double bed, a little more nervous than she'd let on. She knew that Frances would be ruthlessly honest with her and in a sense, she wanted it that way.

As the dark-haired woman fiddled with her laptop and scanned the document closely, she couldn't help but steal side glances at the other woman in a glorious state of undress. With an effort, she pulled her wandering thoughts back to the task at hand and told her, yes it was what she'd like to hear if she was going to be part of her audience.

"You mean it can't be improved?" questioned Kristine. She hadn't expected such a bald statement with no equivocations.

"You're really asking me is it perfect. I don't push for perfection but I know you do. I can hear you saying this speech so it must be real," drawled Frances which made Kristine smile at this sharp woman who had got her measure.

"What about this junior minister? I don't know what context I'll be starting out in?"

"You'll be fine," Frances reassured her lazily."I've seen him come swanning around with his aides in tow. The man mouths the words his top civil servants have written for him. He doesn't know what they mean and you do so you can tread all over him and set your own agenda. Perhaps one or two of your friends can ask you some suitable questions," Frances said with a cheeky grin as she clicked off the laptop, unplugged it and moved over to lay her delicious body next to her lover.

A few weeks ago, Nikki had randomly chosen George to phone up to start the ball rolling to rally their network of friends to turn out to the Howard League AGM, relying on the power of their contact system to get them to turn out and it did the trick. Memories of the previous year's AGM were still fresh in their minds when he'd pulled out the rug of the government speaker, started a debate in the syndicate group and they'd shared a splendid evening's conversation. George got onto John straightaway who was more than happy to come as a private citizen and back up his friends. He'd not seen Nikki and her friends for a long while so he instructed Coope to keep that day free of any appointments.

"I'm all right Jo. I'm not really into conferences. They aren't my cup of tea. Besides, my shift clashes with it. You'll be able to go with John Deed and George probably," Jane Lancaster said carelessly.

"You're sure?" Jo said, not being sure how to respond though she did wonder if the idea was up her lover's street.

"We don't have to like exactly the same things, babes," Jane replied, fixing her lover with her gaze. She put her arms round her lover's waist and linked her hands behind Jo's back. "I'm secure enough about you going to a conference on your own with your ex and I know at the end of the day we'll keep each other warm between the sheets." Jo warmly kissed her lover in gratitude at her understanding.

At that moment, the phone rang. An excited George was sitting next to Alice having thoroughly enjoyed last year's AGM and was looking forward to an injection of fresh spirits and, having done the bulk of her phone calls, aimed to finish up with Jo. She hadn't forgotten visiting Kristine in prison and that gave an additional reason to support her. Jo grinned as she realised that the rest of the gang would be there.

"Count me in,"Karen had said in a determined tone of voice when she was first told though she was a little disappointed that neither Chrissie nor Jane Lancaster shared her interest. "Can you get in as the Independent's special correspondent?" she asked Beth who had just finished doing her make-up.

Beth twisted her face in disgust. She'd been frozen out from any connection with the political section though her present arts job had given her a second to none awareness of art gallery exhibitions that she and Karen had taken advantage of. She'd been disgusted that her paper wasn't going to cover the conference and were far more interested in covering the personality clashes amongst the government as if it were a long running soap opera. Curiously enough, the section dealing with Middle East affairs was a bastion of old fashioned radicalism which was kept rigidly segregated.

"Never mind," she said defiantly."I'm going as a private citizen without my reporter's notepad. They can block me off but they can't tell me what to think. It's what it's all about, isn't it?" Karen thought of Helen and Nikki's struggles and also her own and knew that Beth had hit the nail on the head.

"Want to come along with me to the Howard League AGM John?" Claire Walker kindly asked John in her friendly fashion after which she gave him a brief outline of the proceedings..

He looked up from his work and rubbed his eyes to focus them. He'd slogged his way through a succession of cases which he'd been used to dealing with at his old firm but in a more conscientious fashion in the way he knew that Claire was capable of doing herself. It was a case of going back to his roots and he was feeling that he could take off his L plates and hold his head up high.

"Are you sure of it?" she answered. Claire knew that John was questioning whether he was worthy enough for such an obvious honour.

"Call it part of your training. I would have asked my husband Peter but he can't make it so I thought I'd use it as a development opportunity and you came to mind," Claire said in her simple, lucid fashion

"In that case I'd love to come. I don't know what I can contribute,"John replied bashfully, feeling both nervous and excited at the same time. For the first time, Claire noticed his family resemblance with his sister and realised that she'd chosen well.

"You don't have to speak at the seminar debates so long as you watch and listen but if you feel like it, then go ahead and do it. In any case, it will be a chance to chat with your sister at the breaks."

A slow smile of satisfaction spread across John's face as this reality dawned on him. It never occurred to him to let his long standing injured pride to get in the way of his relationship with Nikki as now they were both on the same side.

Trisha felt terrible when George called her up last of all, having secured a long run of acceptances for the conference. She could rationalise it away by saying that she and Sally-Anne were self-employed businesswomen who worked irregular hours and they weren't going to be able to spare the time. She still felt that she was letting her friends down and were the only ones who wouldn't be at the party. They knew that they could imagine what was happening throughout the day from their previous experience but she knew that wasn't enough. Even Sally's softly whispered sympathy in her ear wasn't enough.

This was the moment Bodybag had dreaded for the past few days, the moment when her Bobby demanded an explanation for her absence from work beyond a few days. This was lasting longer than the periodic 'sickie' she had pulled in the past.

"I've been asked to take a period of gardening leave, Bobby. Management insisted on it though I protested that I couldn't leave everyone in the lurch," she simpered back at him in her ingratiating manner. She was hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Oh well then, you can help me out with the business, coming round with me and taking business. It's becoming too much for me on my tod and you know the ropes," he grated. Bodybag's heart sank. Her independence to moan and complain over a mug and tea served by some con was gone with the wind along with her salary. Slaving over a red hot coffin as an unpaid drudge was her future, her daily hell.

Di Barker and Kevin Spiers had gone their separate ways as their solidarity of sneaking behind the do gooder's backs had gone in a puff of smoke. Di Barker was seething with anger to an unheard breakfast television at being switched on. She'd reached the end of the road as Frances Myers had relentlessly interrogated her and knew everything before she even spoke and she'd been passed to Lou Stoke who'd summarily collected her prison pass off her, her keys and had emptied her locker. Kevin Spiers too had found his smooth charm utterly desert him and he now reckoned on finding some security job where the wages were shit but they didn't ask too many questions. It was every man for himself out here on the streets, he reckoned. On Wednesday fortnight, the two of them queued up at the dole office, making no public recognition of each other in the slightest.

Meanwhile, Selena Geeson had stood as the POA rep on a zero tolerant policy towards prejudice and was getting to grips with the POA union cabinet which Bodybag had always kept hermetically sealed. She'd passed it by in the past wondering what secrets were hidden inside and now she found out. Wearily, she brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes as she carefully perused her old enemy's venomous scribblings. She'd also unearthed old union circulars she'd kept buried so nobody knew of them. It spelled out a long era of misuse of her position, chief of which were scribbled drafts of a defence of one James Fenner who'd been suspended pending an assault of a prisoner, one Michelle Dockley. This event had happened before her time but she strongly suspected that these rough notes could tell a real story if she delved long enough. She reckoned that a lot of the paperwork could be dumped in confidential waste and a brand new start could be made. By now, the replacement Principal Officer, Senior Officer and prison officer had found their feet and their basic fairness were already gaining respect. The only snag was that a harsh Home Office sentencing regime meant that the prison was in danger of being more overcrowded than it used to be.


	45. Chapter 45

A/N Kristine Thorne- introduction to MA dissertation

 **A/N** Sadiq Khan MP, Labour's Justice Secretary, in a speech to Progress Group

Finally,the day dawned as Monday May 11th 2003,the ringed circle on the calendar wall of so many people became reality and all roads led to the Abbey Community Centre, 34 Great Smith Street, London, everything being arranged. Peter Jenkins's smart sports jacket resting in his wardrobe for him to chair the meeting as he had done so since time immemorial. All he had to do was to put on his smartest, most self important clothes along with his manner and take central stage.

The streets of London were laid out in a crooked, irregular pattern, along which lines of cars crawled along in their rush hour desperation. Mixed in were the black Hackney cabs and red double decker busses. Deep underground, the untiring electric underground trains whizzed and hummed their way along acres of shiny railway lines, transporting huge numbers of commuters across the criss cross network. Such were the various ways in which a selection of assorted citizenry focussed in on the conference site.

An early arrival was Kristine who was reflecting on the task in hand as she drank a morning glass of fruit juice. She was well used to delivering lectures to students in the average sized lecture theatre and running seminars so her way of relating to the task in hand was that this was bigger league stuff and that she needed to upstage an average boring politician. As she made her way by taxi, Jules at her side she memorized and re polished her speech. As the taxi set them down, she made a dignified presence as she

swept into the entrance, Jules with his head in the air.

"You're sure you'll be all right?" Nikki asked Helen as she packed an emergency bag for transporting Rose in what looked like an Indian papoose for convenience sake.

"If Rose wakes up fractious, I remember the geography of the place well enough to know where I can slide out and take her. I'd never take on anything that I can't finish one way or another," Helen replied with determined good reason. That made Nikki smile in a soft-hearted fashion as that was Helen all over. Somewhere else, Alice and George, Karen and Beth were at their most glamorous and ready for anything and everything while Jo beamed at John Deed as she recognised an old friend complete in his dapper dark suit. Just behind them, Claire Walker arrived with John Wade who became awestruck as he was getting close to people he'd once noticed from afar in court. In the milling crowd, John Wade suddenly found himself alone when, out of nowhere, Nikki suddenly floated into view, accompanied by Paul Armstrong. His sister was dressed in a dark suit with a slight pinstripe effect and a white shirt and she smiled warmly at him.

"Hi John, it's great that you made it. Want to hang out with us for a bit?"

"Of course I do. I was with Claire Walker but she got detached. If you or anyone shows me the ropes, I'd be only too delighted," John answered, starting to feel at home and his early morning nervousness dissipated. Paul looked on affectionately at brother and sister and the three of them meshed in conversation for a little bit. When Claire located him again, Paul gave his apologies as he was on call to help out with last minute arrangements.

"We're due for a session of death by boredom by the government spokesman. We're relying on Kristine to liven things up," smiled Claire as she led the way to the main hall to take their seats. A palpable sense of movement of people obediently to their chairs indicated the start of the proceedings.

Nikki and her friends patiently endured the posturing of Peter Jenkins in his identikit outfit, same as the last year as he grovelled towards the Important Government Speaker and handed over to the typical blue suited spokesman who had the approved ethnic minority background and whose original individuality had been airbrushed out of existence. This speech was what they expected as the man read from his carefully typed notes on the lectern provided for him.

"It goes without saying that a progressive government needs to remain focussed on the big issues that affect the quality of people's daily lives and the cohesion of our communities .Tackling crime and anti-social behaviour will always be a priority for this government . That immortal phrase uttered by the Prime Minister, "tough on crime tough on the causes of crime"- remains the right principle to underpin criminal justice policy. It encapsulates the primary purposes of the criminal justice system and social policy in this area also to address the underlying reasons for criminality, both at a societal and personal level. With many offenders it has its roots in difficult and destructive backgrounds characterised by, for example, deprivation, educational underachievement, mental health problems, substance abuse and a lack of opportunities in training and employment."

Helen saws sitting right at the end of her aisle, tentatively hoping that this speech would help Rose sleep contentedly but left out of account her own reaction. She exchanged sideways glances with Nikki next to her and Karen the next seat along. The same thought dawned in their minds. This was telling her grandmother how to suck eggs and all thought about the discontinuation of Helen's lifer's group.

"This is why this government invested in programmes such as sure start, in schools, in training, in the education maintenance allowance, in youth provision and in jobs. We have put roadblocks along the route to a life of crime and it had begun to show real results so that first time young offending fell by over 20%. We also equipped our police with the extra resources to tackle crime, catch offenders and patrol our streets so that youth facilities, police numbers and community support officers are also at record highs and crime is at record lows. We diverted people from a life of crime by providing constructive alternatives in education, work and training and deterred people from committing offences as, due to our investments in the police, there was a greater risk of getting caught..

And I accept that more people are being sent to prison. This provided a respite for victims and communities as simply by their incarceration - or incapacitation as it is known - offenders couldn't commit more crimes in the communities from which they were removed. We also increased the length of sentences for the most serious and violent crimes. "

This section of the droning speech enraged John, Jo and George as they sensed the hand of Neil Haughton at work, his efforts to shackle the independence of the judiciary and all three of them thought angrily of the injustice done to Nikki years ago.

"Once someone has been convicted, a sentence handed down and punishment begun, we need to aggressively intervene to ensure, as much as is possible, that by the time the sentence is complete, the offender has been reformed. The characteristics often exhibited by offenders makes it clear that if rehabilitation is to be successful, it must be joined-up and not just between government departments, but between central and local government, and between local and national agencies. Rehabilitation needs to involve the health service where the offender has medical issues and also the education system with a focus on equipping offenders with the literacy, numeracy and life skills they require for the confidence needed to return to civic life and contribute constructively to society..."

This time, it was Alice's turn to snort derisively. In her neck of the wood, joined up government was simply a joke as professionals right across the system were being overstretched, overtired and clinging on with their fingertips in dealing with their workloads. Beth found herself curiously glad that she wasn't here in her professional capacity as her review of this sorry speech would have been vitriolic and got her the sack. Claire smiled cynically at this man while John Wade had the horrible suspicion that, if he hadn't made a change in his lifestyle, he might have fallen for all these blandishments. All of them were longing for Kristine's turn to speak. At the sidelines, Kristine sat with Jules who was twitching in his sleep and a slow smile of satisfaction dawned on her that upstaging this speaker would be easy.

Peter Jenkins rose to his feet in his inimitable fashion and loudly clapped the speaker which was tepidly followed by the audience.

"I think that we should be inspired by the thought that, no matter how bad things appear in our day to day jobs, the bigger picture is that things are getting better and our cooperation with the government is the way forward. Now I'll introduce you to Ms Kristine Thorne, a lecturer in prison education who will give us her views on the matter."

Kristine rose and felt her way for the lectern, not surprised to hear the spitefully delivered dart at her by a guy she had no respect for. All the audience noted the complete absence of a written speech, her guide dog at her side and they wondered what this woman would come up with.

"Thank you Peter. It is an honour to be chosen as guest speaker and I thought I'd say a few words about my own background as I am no more a public figure than any of you in the audience though some are fortunately known to me. I'm in my second year of a PhD which is a combined doctorate of Education and Criminology. As an extension to the question of my MA's dissertation, I am looking at cases of those who have re-offended, to see what type of education they either did or didn't receive whilst they were in custody on previous occasions, in order to construct an idea as to what type of provision of education /rehabilitation might have prevented their subsequent re-offending. I also lecture in education studies at the University of London and my guide dog here is called Jules."

Kristine couldn't resist her touch of humour as she was easing into her role and was starting to feel good about herself. A ripple of appreciation ran round the audience while the government minister and Peter Jenkins looked on stony faced. They'd calculated that a blind woman would be limited as to what she could achieve, being incapable of the platform tricks that include sincere eye contact and oratorical tricks.

"The main purpose of my talk today is to examine if the provision of prison education has any effect on the re-offending rates of criminals. I'm mainly considering the prison system of England and Wales, though numerous programmes and methods of rehabilitation of prisoners in Scotland, Canada and United States prisons are such that the prison system of England and Wales might do well to pursue them. Also, though I'm focussing primarily on prison education and the positive and negative opinions this route to rehabilitation has acquired over the years, I'm touching on other aspects of the prison system such as sentence structure management, health and other forms of rehabilitation throughout this talk."

Nikki smiled to herself that her friend was artfully concealing her two weeks crash course in surviving at Larkhall Prison in her guise of being an academic. She knew that this would come out later seeing that she was in the other seminar group later on.

"In my examination of prison education in England and Wales, I observed that that the two most noticeable discoveries were as follows. One is that education provision isn't in any way equally distributed from prison to prison, and the other is that courses most likely to appear on any prison education timetable were those dealing with literacy and numeracy skills. Each prison has a different amount of time and resources designated to education, as the funding allocation made for education is decided by each individual prison governor rather than by a central government department. Whether or not this appears to be a satisfactory process is a significant part of my talk. However, in the positive introductory view of the level of importance that Her Majesty's Inspectorate of prisons places on educational and rehabilitative provision, this following extract taken from the main aims and objectives of "How inspections are conducted, of Her Majesty's Inspectorate of prisons certainly makes this opinion clear

During a full inspection, the team of inspectors look at:the way prisoners are treated, the quality of the regime including the opportunities for prisoners to work and receive education, how the establishment prepares prisoners for release,the morale of prisoners and staff, the quality of health care and how the establishment is managed and whether it is good value for money. In my investigation into why the teaching of literacy and numeracy skills featured so unerringly on the vast majority of prison education curricula, it became clear that this was in response to the enormous problem that many prison inmates appeared to have with these very basic skills. In 1998 Joy Solomon wrote in the Skill Journal about the ever-increasing levels of literacy and numeracy difficulties amongst the adult population but placing most of her emphasis on the prison population."

That's one in the eye for the government spiel that everything is happening in the best possible way, John thought with grim satisfaction..

"In April 1994, a small-scale survey was commissioned by the basic skills agency in to the overall need for basic skills instruction among prisoners which concluded that whilst 1 in 6 of the general adult population have serious difficulties in reading, writing, and/or basic maths, more than 1 in 2 of the inmates in this survey had a low level of literacy and numeracy."

Both Nikki and Helen thought of Denny Blood and others who clearly were sharp in their own way but were clearly fighting through life with one arm tied behind her back.

"My in-depth research with two prisons, and examination of the these two prisons' curriculums leads me to believe that this wasn't merely an assumption based on statistics, but a tragic reality and a challenge for those concerned. However, to give some idea as to why this problem of lack of literacy and numeracy skills is so rife within the prison system, an examination by Caddick and Webster (1998) suggests that this is primarily as a result of the serious lack of a nationally targeted strategy of prisoner rehabilitation.

In the UK, the extent of the problem - in terms of the proportion of offenders affected - has been put at various levels over the years, at least in part because of different conceptions of poor literacy and different methods of assessment."

There's, joined up government for you, Beth thought with great satisfaction. Why the hell wasn't the Independent represented here as it should be?

"This clear lack of initiative by either the home office or the prison service itself combines with the growing need for a rehabilitative programme targeted at those inmates most in need of basic skills training. The result can only be the widening of the divide between punishing those who commit crime and the rehabilitation of these same individuals so that they can then be released in to society with some hope of continuing to be law-abiding citizens. The main text of my talk will cover three main areas: why education is considered to be a productive part of the rehabilitative process, (both by critics in the field of criminology and by the inmates themselves); Why prison education continues to be the first area to suffer financially, (both by central government and by the cutting and reassigning of resources at individual prisons), and, how should central government departments attempt to move forward in this age of prisoner rehabilitation. The need for a national strategy will be made unerringly clear throughout the following discussion, though I believe that the points which have already been highlighted should only encourage further discussion on the subject. Suffice it to say at this stage that the type of statistics illustrated by Solomon (1998) can only begin to uncover a level of educational poverty which could be said to rival that of any developing country..."

By now, Peter Jenkins and his crony were aghast at the way this dangerous woman was unravelling the careful work that had been done to give a positive spin to being tough on the causes of crime that five years of government in alliance with the reliable sections of the press had been trying to instill into the electorate. When Kristine finally rounded out her conclusion of her speech, the audience broke into a spontaneous round of applause and John and Nikki as of like minds rose to their feet and their friends and a number of others followed suit. It was definitely not in the government script of running meetings that there should be any kind of standing ovation but the meeting clearly wasn't being managed correctly. Peter took a look at his watch and opted for an early lunch break.

John Deed immediately rose to his feet and lodged an immediate protest.

"This isn't my meeting and I'm only an ordinary member of the audience but I'm sure we could manage a quick fifteen minute slot for questions and answers of both speakers. It would help provoke thoughts for the seminar session after lunch."

His contribution was greeted by loud applause in which Helen joined but she immediately regretted her impulsiveness as Rose woke up and started crying.

"Very well then," Peter Jenkins said spitefully."Any questions must be brief, one minute maximum to give other people a chance."

Nikki and her friends smiled grimly, Each and every one of them could make short and sharp contributions. After all, they were not politicians.


	46. Chapter 46

**"** Using chairman's privilege, I'll start the ball rolling. After me, anyone wishing to speak, raise your hand and I'll call you in," Peter Jenkins continued, rounding on the woman with a nasty gleam in his eye." Ms Thorne, just what practical experience have you of the inside of one of Her Majesty's prisons as your speech struck me if you don't mind me putting this way as airy-fairy and academic."

"That's easy," Kristine replied feeling utterly self-possessed, ready for anything, her mind being crystal clear and sharp as a razor. She had the inexpressible sensation of letting off an unexploded bomb to the best possible purpose. "As part of my MA, I visited HMP Nottingham and interviewed three inmates at an English class with the tutor present and HMP Wandsworth and interviewed up to ten inmates during a life and social skills course with two two tutors present. More recently, I stayed incognito as a prisoner for two weeks at HMP Larkhall and came out six weeks ago and the experiences I had were a real eye opener. Believe me, I know."

Peter Jenkins turned red in the face, not knowing where to put himself, sensing the furious glare from the minister. Neither of them knew this secret and this breached the traditional role of the governing class, to keep secrets from those it governed and not to have secrets withheld from it. George was the first to go for the jugular.

"There are three kind of lies. Lies, damned lies and government statistics. Why on earth should we, a cross section of the public, believe one single figure of the stream of figures spewed out from the government that things can only get better?" she said, thickly layering her words with acid sarcasm.

The government minister went into a frenzy of pulling out all sorts of figures from the top of his head and his answer went way past the one minute barrier which induced a restive spirit amongst the audience. Finally, Peter Jenkins had a word in his ear and called out for the next question. He pointed to what looked like a mild mannered safe person and indicated to her to speak.

"Speaking for myself, I think the blind lady does sound like she knows what she's talking about. What I would like to ask is are there prison officers in the audience?" the grey-haired woman wearing a sensible skirt piped up.

"I'm obviously not in the position to say and neither is the minister," answered Peter Jenkins in a tone of voice designed to make the woman feel stupid without being too obvious. This angered Karen who had been severely bored and irritated by the government minister's specious evasions and this reminded her of Fenner's style in bullshit.

"Well I used to be..." Karen started to say when Peter Jenkins nastily overrode her, stating that she hadn't been called into the debate when another voice called out "Let her speak." Karen grabbed the moment's speaking space with both hands and waded in.

"Well, whoever you are, Mr Government Minister, you went way over the time limit so what do we get for an example for sticking to the rules? I used to be Wing Governor at Larkhall Prison after Helen Stewart on my left who's holding her baby and she became acting Governing Governor. You can take it from us that a number of prison officers try to do our best but we're up against the 'hang them and flog them' brigade. Incapacitating prisoners, my left foot. More like lock them up and throw away the key but ," Karen Betts fired back in disgust, flicking her blond hair over her shoulder, her blue eyes blazing. To her side, Nikki who was remaining silent was fired up inside by Karen who was speaking disobedient speeches for her.

"And I'm a high court judge and was last year's speaker. I've not forgotten the attempt by the government to pass a law imposing restrictive guideline on judges and generally telling us how to run our courts. Whatever happened to the separation of powers between the judiciary and the legislature?" weighed in John in his most carrying voice, inspired to be as badly behaved as his friends were. Jo and George mouthed 'typical' affectionately at their wayward friend. John Wade sat open-mouthed at the circle of friends he was joining and couldn't believe their outspokenness but this attracted him as they were right. Claire, Beth and Alice sat back and were content for the others to speak out. Helen's main concern was that Rose wasn't going to start crying but she agreed with everything the others were saying.

Peter Jenkins was getting visibly rattled by now and glanced at his watch. There was a couple of minutes to go and there was going to be one more question and that was that. He looked up at a smartly dressed man dressed in a blue suit sitting close to the troublemakers and he tentatively put up his hand.

"Kristine, if I've got it right, are you saying that there's a lack of rationality in prison education? I'm a newcomer to this as I'm a solicitor and I've never thought of what happens to those convicted in court," John Wade said ever so politely. Well done, this brother of mine, mouthed Nikki to herself.

"You've got it in one. You couldn't have said a truer word," Kristine said slowly as the immensity of her two weeks in Larkhall threatened to overwhelm her."If you're in the same group as me, I'll tell you all about it."

"That's not possible, Ms Thorne. We have our protocols and procedures. The speakers speak. The audience listens and can ask questions. Besides, the minister has an important cabinet meeting at the Houses of Parliament and we are forbidden to be one sided," interjected Peter Jenkins in stern masterful tones, exposing his mindset to one and all in one fell swoop.

"Don't worry, I don't mind helping out if you want it. I may as well give my money's worth while I'm here," countered Kristine deftly to a scattering of cheers from the audience. Paul Armstrong carefully scribbled in Kristine's name to the list, noting that this would balence the two groups out nicely. Peter Jenkins had no choice but to accede with a pretence of good grace and hurriedly announced the lunch break.

As Kristine moved away from the top table and followed the sounds of the audience as they started to file out from the rows of chairs to the exit at the back of the hall, George was intrigued and touched to see her react shyly to congratulations from those nearest her for speaking their minds for them. She chatted awhile to random strangers as they shuffled along but she knew what she wanted most out of life. George caught Karen's eye and called out to their friend.

"Want to join the smoker's corner Kristine? I remember the way."

"So does Jules," replied Kristine with dry humour.

Sure enough, the four legged creature pulled on his lead, the three women following after. Jo caught sight of them and guessed their purpose.

"The three of you look just like naughty schoolgirls headed for the bike sheds for a crafty smoke."

"That's not all we went out for. Still these days, tastes change,"retorted Karen cheekily , having been emboldened to he hanged for a sheep as much as for a lamb. This was greeted by a general round of laughter.

"Are you guys coming back to join us after you've had your nicotine fix? I'm dying for a coffee," Beth called out quickly and Karen said 'sure' just as they disappeared through the back door.

That left Alice, Beth, John Deed, Jo Mills, Claire and John Wade while Helen and Nikki had quickly slipped into the toilet for an emergency nappy change. They looked round each other indecisively until Beth took the lead.

"Don't know about the rest of you but my vice is caffeine. My nose leads me to where we should be going."

Accordingly, they threaded their way through the willing crowd following Beth to the café area and, without too much trouble, gather round a long table.

"I wonder why they changed the arrangements from last year. Last time, the government hack went on in the morning and at lunch break, we were dying for John to slice through the spin doctoring- which he did," observed Jo with a smile at her friend at the end.

"Paul will let us in on the secret. He's indiscreet to the right people," quipped Beth.

"I heard you,!" grinned Paul as he drifted in their direction."The idea was that Kristine would be hopelessly flummoxed by the government spokesman's incisive logic so she'd fall flat on her face. She was set up to fail. I knew different so I kept it to myself."

"Typical sneaky move," commented Alice in disgust.

"Instead of which, the righteous prevailed. It sets things up nicely for when you're split up into two seminar groups like last year. I know that any of you can hold his or her own in a tough situation."

"I'm new to all this," put in John Wade. Up till now, he's kept back, feeling a little shy amongst all these strong minded individuals and he didn't want to be credited with being tougher than he actually was.

"In which case, you're in for an interesting experience if this morning's anything to go by. In the meantime, I've gotta go. My job's to socialise and make everyone welcome,"Paul answered before slipping off into the crowd.

"Especially as Peter Jenkins isn't," added Nikki acidly before her brother came into view and her expression brightened."Hiya John. Enjoying yourself?" Her sister's charm and brimming over pleasure in life which finally included him emboldened him to speak, feeling the words as he went along.

"This is really interesting experience. Very thought provoking. It's worth more than ten years of working at my old law firm," John said slowly at last. It drew his first public reaction of appreciative laughter in this new world of his and a fond smile from Nikki. George looked on affectionately as she'd once been a previous voyager from the dark world into the light so she knew.

"In case you're thinking you'll cramp my style John, you're not in the same group as me but with John Deed instead," she said cheerily.

"At one time, there was the one John," grinned Helen who came up from behind Nikki, carrying Rose who was making indistinct baby sounds.

"It's one of life's little ironies that as a red blooded male, I've inadvertently cultivated quite a lesbian fan base over the years if you don't mind me saying..." he said, the pause awaiting validation.

"You're right John. You have," smiled Alice reassuringly in her elegant fashion. "Thanks. Well that's certainly kept me forever on my toes intellectually speaking which isn't a bad thing by any means," John said with a broad smile with no reservations. Jo looked at her old friend fondly. She felt really comfortable with him these days remembering how his intellectual pride would forbid such an admission or to seek help when he needed it. Come to think of it, she used to have similar problems until she'd learned to lighten up and learn what her heart told her to feel.

At that moment, extra sparks were lent to the free-wheeling conversation when George, Karen and Kristine came into view, grinning broadly. Jules proudly lead the way and was made a fuss of which was his due. John Deed laid hold of a small round table to include them into the group.

"Is that Paul putting up a notice?"Karen asked as a temporary gap in the crowd permitted the view of the notice board.

"If you like, I'll go over and find out who's in which group," Alice volunteered whose height helped her in such matters. John Wade continued to be enthralled by the easygoing way that conversation was switched around this crowd and pleased to be accepted as part of the crowd. The women were a million miles away from his suburban life with his wife and children, both attractive and inaccessible but this didn't bother him.

"Right, John Deed, Beth, John Wade, Kristine, Karen and Claire are in one group and George, Helen, Nikki, Alice and Karen are in the other. Do you think we can take on the universe?" the normally reserved Alice asked with a mocking grin

"Shouldn't we prepare for the seminar. I mean, get out thoughts together," queried John Wade as old habits of organisation and planning came to the fore as for any meeting he'd faced.

"Thanks for your concern John but you'll find that we're prepared already," John Deed replied with calm assurance and looking kindly on him, saying the words Nikki would have said except that she was a seminar leader and couldn't be partisan."Our friendly conversation has calmed us down and clarified our thoughts so we'll find the experiences within ourselves and the right words will come along, never fear. If you look within yourself, it will happen. Believe me."

John Wade nodded dumbly in agreement. He knew that his sister had been right all along from day one and John Deed was telling him to trust to his instincts. This wasn't his preferred way of operation but neither was it John Deed's. He knew he had to unlearn so much in recent months and let himself evolve naturally without let or hindrance. After all, it struck him that he was an expert in doing things the wrong way so this might make for a suitable topic of conversation.

The seminar groups took a life of their own with minimal intervention by Nikki and Paul and, once again, it neatly sidelines the government spokesman's spiel on law and order. Kristine looked on with intense pleasure as every one of her friends were very real and nothing could withstand them. She could live with catching up with a load of essays from her students after her experiences today. At the end of the day, Nikki and Paul drew sighs of relief that the day had gone so well as neither of them mentally guaranteed in advance that right would prevail but it needed to be fought for. As for Helen, she was enormously pleased with herself as she'd made telling contributions in between nipping out and tending to Rose. The life she'd lived in the past was still valid and that side of her existence still meant something. Right at the end of the day, they were all tired but satisfied except for a grumpy and solitary Peter Jenkins and slightly bittersweet partings back in the lengthening shadows of London streets.


	47. Chapter 47

The aftermath of the Howard League AGM radiated a warming sense of satisfaction that at least there more than isolated individuals who thought the same when they passed by the latest screaming tabloid headline about law and order and, in that sense, all was right with the world.

Monty caught sight of John walking with a spring in his step, looking very pleased with himself and, together with an observant Joseph Channing, roared with laughter in the comfort of his chambers when John told them of his stories, modestly making it clear that he was only one of the gang. By contrast, Peter Jenkins spoke reluctantly to Lawrence James on the phone whose face was set rigid with anger. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Neil Haughton got to hear about it. He was the fall guy and he needed to invent some plausible explanation to take the heat off him. By contrast, George, Jo and Claire got stuck into their work with added pleasure from their exposure to the wider arena of justice while John Wade went home that night, wide-eyed from a day of having his mind stretched open to new possibilities of thinking and trying to explain it to his wife Jill. She looked blank-faced at the striking instance of the mysterious change in her husband. She was worrying that her husband was no longer the reliable provider that he'd always been and. Most of all, she was trying to grapple with the fact that her sister-in-law was no longer being portrayed as the disgrace to the family that he'd always led her to believe.

"We've been slaving away while you've been fighting the good fight," Chrissie greeted her friend with apparent cynicism but belied that by the warm affectionate hug she gave her."I'm sure you gave it to them and made it all worthwhile. Welcome back," she added as she held onto Karen. Karen's eyes were misty and glowing as she had worried about others having to cover for her. Besides, she'd never known Chrissie to be particularly political yet still waters ran deep. Jane Lancaster strolled by, grinning broadly as her lover had already told her how she'd got on. As for Beth and Alice, they headed off down the road to their next assignments with a smile in their hearts.

"Oh if only Rose could tell me what's wrong with her? Intuition and guesswork are really hard work," complained Helen one sunny Saturday morning as she found that Rose had some indecipherable upset. Outside, Nikki noticed that the buds on the trees in the back garden from March had given way to the leaves of summer and were already starting to turn brown at the edges. She'd kept up her interest in the garden despite being much more stretched in all directions when compared with previous years.

Nikki had been looking at the traditionally pink-coloured baby book with its gold swirling lettering, details of her birth, family tree, immunisation records and list of 'baby's firsts' which Helen had written out in her bold writing and spirit of absolute certainty.

Smiled for the first time 9 7 03

Laughed 18 8 03

Recognised mummy and mummy 16 6 03

Turned head in direction of sound 25 6 03

Began to grasp objects 30 9 03

Splashed with hands in bath 31 7 03

To Nikki, the last six months or so had passed in a complete blur where there was nothing more certain than change as Rose was evolving day by day.

"The time will tell when Rose will be able to talk- perhaps more than either of us have bargained for," Nikki responded with dry humour. She wasn't aware of it herself but her father recently described how forward she had always been. She reckoned that the odds were that Rose would grow up the same way and she would pose them interesting conundrums.

The weeks drifted by one after the other and stacked up to become a month, then two or more. As autumn was on the point of edging into winter, a thought started nagging away at George's mind as she turned the key to her front door. Hers and Alice's life had definitely edged into the 'all ends happily ever after' mode of thinking and living and she started to think about all the run of high profile trials around which was interwoven so many changes in her values, in her lifestyle. From the last time she had gossiped with Karen over loud music and flashing lights at Chix, her friend had gone through the same journey with Beth and Jo had done the same in finding Jane Lancaster and, at the centre of the bar, she saw Trisha and Sally-Anne standing contentedly in the middle of their enterprise that gave women so much pleasure... When Alice came in, looking a little windswept and tired George stole the chance while she was cooking their evening meal to voice these thoughts exactly as they came off the top of her head.

"Hmmn. It sounds like a good idea but don't we all see each other at Chix anyway?" Alice said doubtfully. This didn't dampen George's spirits.

"That's only partly true but think of those we don't see," George said as she started getting really excited by the idea, jumping up and down in her high heeled shoes. Already, she was casting an eye on their large living room and seeing how extra space could me made for the party complete with lights and music and she was even contemplating requisitioning her own kitchen for the display of party food. "There's Jo Mills and Jane Lancaster as they don't come down very often. There's Nikki and Helen who are really in good need of some fun and glamour in their lives. There's Kristine who I suspect doesn't find Chix her thing. There's John Deed who might come if Kristine's here but would never come to Chix. There's Claire and her husband Peter who are similarly placed and even Nikki's brother and Paul Williams might come though perhaps I'm being optimistic."

"I see what you mean sweetheart. I hadn't really thought of those we didn't see. It will be a kind of reunion after the Howard League conference only with alcohol and party atmosphere. What about Trisha and Sally-Anne? Will they fix it and even if they can, won't it seem like a busman's holiday?"

George kissed her lover warmly on her lips and wound Alice's hands round her own back. Somehow, the two women started to feel a sense of pleasurable purpose even while the world was dark outside their living room

"As to can they come, you leave that one to me. As to will they want to come, for once in their lives they won't have the responsibility of running the show. Sounds convincing?"

"You're only snuggling up to me so you can seduce me into agreeing with your idea," joked Alice as pleasurable feelings of getting up nice and close to her lover started to well up inside her.

"But of course. You don't mind a few men coming round?" George replied softly.

"No problem at all. They're interesting guys and I feel comfortable round all of them," Alice answered straightaway, having cleansed her mind from any sense of politeness and deferring to George's ideas. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. George softly and lovingly caressed Alice who slid her arms round this fascinating blond-haired beauty who always had the happy knack of coming up with welcome surprises.

The following weekend, Beth and Karen were walking determinedly round the shopping centre, a cold wind whipping its way through their winter coats but this didn't diminish their spirits.

"I've put the RSVP in the post to George on the way home from work last night "Karen said with great satisfaction.

"At one time, I'd have worn a totally unsuitable dress up to here and no coat," joked Beth as she walked arm in arm with Karen whose blonde hair kept intermittently being blown across her eyes."I suppose I'm more sensible these days."

"To attract the women or to feel good in yourself?" Karen grinned knowing that years of wearing one plain uniform or another restricted her own show-off tendencies to going out.

"Both of course. That's the shop we need," answered Beth in her quickfire fashion.

"Where, where?"said Karen, trying to brush her hair out of her face and screwing up her eyes.

"I'll show you, darling," Beth answered, drawing her lover's arm tightly to her own and making a swift bee line for the shop entrance. Once inside, Karen realised that this was exactly the shop she'd wanted to browse round. Her eyes lit up as she spied racks of party dresses and knew that she and Beth would have lots of fun making the final decision. Just within the corner of her eye, she saw Jo Mills waving in their direction along with Jane Lancaster and they zeroed in on them.

"No guesses as to what event you're splashing out money for," Jo said with a broad grin.

"Isn't there the danger that a few of us will buy the same outfits?" queried Jane.

"We need to have faith and chill out," intervened Beth softly and gently."When you think of it, we're all lookers but no single one of us looks like anyone else. The nearest resemblances I can think of are Karen and Trisha and that's pushing it. Doesn't it strike you that each one of us has chosen a partner who looks very much different?"

Oblivious of the younger women who were chattering away, phoning friends on mobiles and scouting around for the ideal dress to go out and pick up some boyfriend, the other three women looked around at their circle of women and enlightenment dawned for a little while. It was the impatient Jane Lancaster who recalled them back to duty.

Somewhere else in town, John Deed was having a guarded conversation with Kristine.

"This will make us look as if we're a couple. Is it what either of us really want?" she pursued with deadly accuracy.

"We move in different circles," John answered with smooth guile that Kristine gave him full marks for."Believe me, none of the brethren have the remotest suspicion of the event I'm tempted to go to only if you are."

Kristine laughed heartily at this man's barefaced cheek but uttered a warning to this charmer.

"So long as you haven't got the idea that I'm settling down. I have a date with the very luscious Frances Myers next Saturday and I've no intention of breaking it for you."

"The difference between your affairs- if I can call them that for want of a better word- and the ones I used to go in for is that you're honest in expressing your intentions in advance whereas I used to lie through my teeth to the particular bed partner I was with at the time. I'm in no position to criticise you. Besides, since when were you concerned about what idle gossip says about you?" retorted John, starting to enjoy the argument.

"All right," conceded Kristine."For once in a lifetime, I'll give way on this one but you'd better not be the knight in shining armour looking after the damsel in distress. Just remember that I went to my share of parties at uni. You send in your RSVP and I'll sign my name on the one George did specially for me. I can do that you know."

"I've never doubted anything you've ever laid claim to," John said in a more serious vein. The man is learning thought Kristine as she ended the call.

So the list of RSVPs arrived through the letter box, much to George's satisfaction. She was really pleased when Paul Williams and John Wade's replies came up positive as did Claire and Peter Williams and she reckoned that there had been a little behind the scenes consultation and deals being struck. In a fit of enthusiasm, she'd even sent out an invitation to her daughter Charlie who had now finished her finals at university and was at something of a loose end. She had been a little jittery at the prospects of her either accepting or rejecting as this party was, to some extent, her world at Chix transplanted to her home and she wondered just how relaxed either of them would be. She was also puzzled that neither Nikki nor Helen had replied as yet. One evening, the phone rang while Alice was checking out the replies still to come. eagerly, George snatched up the phone only to be greeted by a cold caller trying to sell her double glazing and he received the full venom of George's frustrations. There was only one thing for it, George resolved as she picked up the phone.

"Hi mum," Charlie said casually having disinterred the house phone from the bottom of a tumbled pile of discarded clothes, both hers and her flatmates while the pile of dirty crockery lay unregarded after Friday night's communal meal. A guy in denim jeans and T-shirt lay face down on the settee."I've been busy chilling out after a hard day's work at the office," she added virtuously.

George knew better, judging from the rasp in her daughter's voice but it made her own unconventional request easier to negotiate.

"I'm sure you've been working wonderfully hard darling, what with your new career after doing so well in your studies," gushed George, alluding to her completing her studies last July and starting work as a junior barrister in Jo's firm. This threw Charlie onto the defensive as both of them were highly aware that Charlie's university studies had been spotted by various scrapes she'd got into following her environmental protests.

"OK, let's hear it. You obviously want a favour from me," sighed Charlie slightly irritably.

"Only the reply either way to the party invitation I sent you. It must have gone astray in the post," George answered meekly.

"Let me check around and make sure," Charlie answered in her most efficient, administrator tones while George grinned broadly at her knowledge of the truth which would tip the valence further in her favour

.

"You want me to come to yours and Alice's party? I've met her at Christmas at granddad's and she's cool but isn't this going to be a lesbian get together. I'm straight in case you didn't know," Charlie answered, a note of scepticism in her voice.

"Not altogether," answered George truthfully enough."Those that are, are partnered off so it's all perfectly respectable. Your father is coming with his new girlfriend Kristine and we're all on good terms these days. I know of a few other male friends of ours who are coming."

"And Jo? Will she be there?" asked Charlie, anxiously seeking reassurance seeing the way the land was lying.

"Oh yes, she'll be there. I've had her reply," George answered innocently enough.

"I've got nothing else lined up so I might as well get the family fix again. I'll drop the reply in the post," Charlie said casually while George grinned with delight.

Meanwhile, the party invitation lay on the mantelpiece in Nikki and Helen's flat. They really did want to go out to the party but months of domesticity and getting into the role of mothers had made them afraid to go out. Fortunately, Roisin and Cassie were regular callers and they put two and two together when they saw the unanswered party invitation and when Roisin asked straight out if they were going, she wasn't surprised by the evasive answer. It was time for her to pass on her experiences of motherhood so their two friends would avoid some of the mistakes she'd made.

"It's about time that the pair of you went out and enjoyed yourselves," Roisin said in determined tones, her arms folded across her chest as she confronted the two hesitant women."I know the umbilical cord feeling and if you add my stick in the mud ex partner and my Irish catholic guilt, that makes for a really poisonous brew. You've got it easy compared with me. Now Rose is on solids, there isn't any reason you can't go to your friend's party like you deserve."

Nikki and Helen looked round in a bemused fashion. It had been a long time since they'd gone out to Chix or anywhere else. They felt as if they were different creatures when they'd gone out, all dolled up. Their existence had been one of slogging through one exhausted day after another, changing nappies and grabbing as much sleep as they could. Their party outfits remained in a sadly neglected corner of their wardrobes and only now did a distant allure start to manifest itself, especially as they were told to go.

"At least I've got Helen's breasts back," Nikki said mischievously, provoking Helen into a dirty laugh. Roisin saw her friend neatly dodge the issue and stuck to her guns.

"So you're ready for a bit of fun and games in one area and not before time then why not take the next step?" she pursued with deadly logic before shifting her stance to soft persuasion."I mean why not? You know I'm guaranteed to look after Rose as it's only one night. The only thing holding you both back is you."

"So you get those RSVPs signed and returned," sang out Cassie. Helen looked at her friend's implacable offer of help, reached for her writing pad while Nikki sorted out an envelope and first class stamp.

A day or so later, George jumped for joy as she picked up the post in the evening and saw the personally handwritten writing amongst all the junk mail while Alice looked on fondly. It made her happy to see her lover's project fall into place. A little while after they'd had their evening meal, George and Alice were curled up together with the lights turned down low so they could more easily settle down for the evening. Everything was warm and comforting and softly romantic. George was wearing a dark knee length skirt with a slit up the side, something that only she could get away with in terms of the proprieties of court appearance. Alice's nimble fingers were inspired to softly caress the inside of George thigh while, in turn, the blond haired woman was unbuttoning her partner's blouse and was tantalising her lover as to where she would venture next.

"You know, one of the most interesting relationships around is the one between John and Nikki," observed George to Alice's surprise who immediately raised her eyebrows.

"You're joking. I know they're close but..."

The blond-haired woman laughed at her partner's surprise at her observation and carefully elucidated as she undid the last button and started gently stroking Alice's flat stomach.

"I don't mean there's anything sexual in it. From what Nikki's said since I've known her, men have never been her flavour and John is rigidly heterosexual. He's got far too much respect for Helen as well and their relationship to ever dream of trying anything on. Their closeness is in a completely different area. John is the only person Nikki has ever known who is more capable of reckless courage than she is. John admires the way Nikki has endured hardships without ever compromising herself and has won through. They both deeply respect the good the other has done in this world and each is typically modest about their own accomplishments. Their values and perception of the world is remarkably similar. They read each other's minds remarkably easily and they're both proud stubborn people who won't give in."

"So that's one reason why you wanted them both there," Alice said softly.

"I used to organise birthday parties when I was a little girl. I've always wanted things to be so complete," George confessed, the low light shining on her already illuminated face.


	48. Chapter 48

Trisha and Sally-Anne were half-dressed with a bemused feeling of something being missing nagging at their subconscious before realising that all they had to do was to hire a taxi to George's house and weren't responsible for anything. A spreading smile of satisfaction stole across their consciousnesses as they were looking round their bedroom where rejected ideas for outfits were precariously suspended on coat hangers.

"We've paid everyone their wages into their accounts and put up a cancellation notice on our website?" half-questioned Trisha, totting up on her fingers their 'must do' tasks.

She looked proudly through the half-open bedroom door at their brand new computer in the next room. This was their pride and joy as they entered the home computer age, Trisha having got to grips with creating a stylish design based on the 'Chix' sign outside the club and all the dawning possibilities.

"I still can't imagine tapping out a short paragraph and feeding it into the great electronic network. It saves phoning around friends and can they pass on the message," Sally-Anne said in awestruck tones as she overlooked her lover slipping away from her immediate vicinity.

"You still think we have unbreakable responsibilities," Trisha said cheerfully as she slipped on her brand new dress that she'd bought on the quiet and running her hairbrush through her longish, shiny hair. Suddenly, the blonde haired woman emerged into Sally-Anne's consciousness, wearing an outfit more delicate, less formal than was her habit and the dark-haired woman stood open-mouthed. She would have kissed Trisha if it weren't for the lipstick she'd carefully applied. Perhaps later, she thought.

"I'll book the taxi and prove you're wrong," Sally-Anne finally said at last, reaching for her mobile.

In another part of London, Kristine was already dressed while John Deed was in a state of indecision. If he was going out on a date, he'd pick his favourite dark blue suit, formal white shirt and tie and he knew that his distinguished ageing looks would assure him of his conquest for the night. This time, he was pretty sure he was headed for surroundings that looked like the pick of enchanting female beauty except that they wouldn't be interested in him, only each other and it confused him. The nearest experience he'd ever had was when he'd called round at Nikki and Helen's flat in a moment of profound depression and they'd acted more like a combination of friends and nursemaids and that was all right. This would be different this time and he suspected that this was the mythical lesbian club reduced down to homelike size and including him, Paul Armstrong and John Wade. His only certainty was having checked that there would be male company which he found strangely reassuring. Thus it was that he untied his tie and wondered if the open neck look would make him feel more relaxed.

"For goodness sake, make up your mind John," a female voice pitched with exasperation broke into this fog of indecision. For a bemused second, he thought he'd been transported back in time to when he was still living with George and Charlie was settled down in her little bed only to realise it was Kristine that was calling him to order. He smiled apologetically at his friend.

"Right, I will wear the tie after all," he said in masterful tones.

"I could have told you that and I'm not even sighted. What a muggle you are," came the blunt rejoinder, referring to Kristine's liking for the Harry Potter series. It was just as well that Charlie hadn't chosen that moment to knock on the door and seen her admired father being knocked off his pedestal. Just for once, her lateness proved to be providential.

Elsewhere in London, the passenger door to a gleaming black taxi cab snapped shut and cut the psychological umbilical connection to a peacefully sleeping Rose in Roisin's expert care. Helen was dressed in a gorgeous flaring green dress and Nikki was resplendent in her smart suit and open-necked shirt.

"Roisin did tell us to go out on the town and not to think of home," Nikki said, reassuring themselves that the determined Irishwoman had given them a crystal clear order.

"Yeah, also to pretend it's our first date," laughed Helen with her infectious grin. She'd found the dress at the back of the wardrobe where it had lain undisturbed for months after it had been a little too loose fitting. Now, she was gratified to find out that it fitted her just fine and looked good.

"In which case, let's make it real," smirked Nikki, gently sliding her hand up from her lover's knee and inside the hem. This was a hint of the way they'd come to live their life together and would be in the future.

Karen and Beth were definitely fired up and were snogging in the back seat of their taxi. Their lipstick would be easy enough to rearrange when they got there so they reasoned. Claire and Peter were more decorous, more uncertain of what they would encounter though a number of fellow guests were known to them in their work guise. as for Jo Mills and Jane Lancaster, they were well into the first flush of courtship as they held hands tenderly while the darkness and street lights flashed by. Paul Marshall smiled with gentle irony as he was entering the part of his good friend's world he'd never seen before but reckoned he'd enjoy the night with intelligent company. As for John wade, he'd had a tense time broaching to his wife Jill the matter of this party and not being greatly surprised when she'd turned it down flat. He was becoming uncomfortably aware that his life's path was diverging away from his wife's and he felt there was something missing as he set out on his own, feeling halfway expectant and also being nervous of treading on new ground.

At this moment in time, George stood hands on her hips, confidently surveying the range of buffet food she'd created, the fine wines and spirits she'd bought and Alice's quietly supportive manner. This felt like all the birthdays she'd ever had stacked up in a line and everything was fine with the guests on their way. Her mind was buzzing with that special sense of heightened anticipation of what was sure to happen, the pleasure of creating the party for those she was closest to. She'd certainly admit that an element of this pleasure was narcissistic but no more than that. She was a good host and she took pleasure in other people enjoying themselves. Of course, Alice knew this well.

Suddenly the first knock on the door was the prelude to the arrival of Karen and Beth's charm and personality and they were soon gently swaying to the soft, smoochy background music that framed conversations that eagerly joined up with what they'd said last time they met. The two had become four and the light were low and this situation felt good. Jo and Jane tuned into the party feelings and music that soon welcomed them in. As Jo came into George's house, a strange feeling came over her. This dwelt like a mini version of Chix which they were both familiar with but John and other men were due to arrive soon.

"Don't worry Jo John is coming with Kristine and he'll be relaxed about the two of us having moved on like he has. What drink do you and Jane want as I'll fetch them for you?" George said reading her friends feelings solicitously with her warm smile. Jane looked at her partner who squeezed her arm gently to remind her to put the past where it belonged.

A cheer rang out as Helen and Nikki made their entrance just like the old times. The two women flushed with pleasure in being so included and made welcome and they reminded themselves that yes, going to a party is a knack you don't forget, like riding a bike. Nikki passed Helen a glass of wine and she drank it down with great pleasure. The mood was now starting to pick up in tempo and everything was warm and familiar.

"Here's hoping," John said with apparent stoicism, Kristine on her arm as she used her white stick to get along with, Charlie bringing up the rear

I must need my head examining, Charlie had thought, an hour or so earlier on as she clattered downstairs in her high heels and flimsy dress into the chilly gloom of London's underground instead of chilling out at home with booze and music to keep her company. She couldn't detach herself from the thought that she was going out to her parent's party with their circle of friends despite her favourable impression of Alice whom she'd seen at Christmas with her mother. She wasn't prejudiced, she assured herself, but she was doubtful if she was up to socialising with a group of thirty-something lesbians who were outside her range of experience. She recalled that, years ago in her university freshers week, she'd passed by the stand for the LGBT society without it catching her eye as she looked out for something exciting like environmental protest which, sadly enough, was unrepresented. She reluctantly supposed she'd have to do a crash course in revision. Right now, she was more inclined than ever to play things low key. Half an hour earlier, she'd run up against the formidable Kristine Thorne who could so easily have been one of her lecturers except that, for a blind woman, she'd detected with her unerring skill the source of her wide-eyed wonder. For a start, Ms Thorne was different from her imagined impression of yet another of dad's girlfriends, being large and stately and she had a mind like a razor. For all her sophisticated ways that she'd picked up at university, this was a mind-bending experience and, as she trailed after John and Kristine, she suspected that there were more to come and her instinct was to cling to the slightest traces of security

"For God's sake they're your friends John. They know about us and accept our situation. That means that Jo and George won't be scratching each others eyes over you or yours either. They've both got other fish to fry," Kristine reproved him forcefully. That did the trick and so he moved forwards with all the enthusiasm as if he were headed for the dentist's chair. Charlie blinked with astonishment to see Kristine take charge. In any case, why would Jo Mills have other fish to fry, Charlie wondered?

At that moment, a soft blend of pulsing music, warmth and low lights beguiled the two of them into the room where glamorous women to left and right of them drew them both in. Neither of them had been to such a social scene before but everything in this situation felt good and they were in. Somehow, the last thing that occurred to John was to talk shop Nikki over the way gave him a warm, welcoming smile and this reminded him that they'd always been like brother and sister. John looked round and saw Sally-Anne's pleasant smile and also Karen's and he remembered that he'd had a hand in their lives in their trials. Charlie trailed in after them and did her best to figure out the dynamics of this party which, on the face of it, wasn't greatly different from other parties she'd been to except that it was almost all female.

Just at this moment, in walked John Wade with Claire and Peter Walker and everything suddenly stopped. Her head swivelled round to take in the slinky women who were draped round the room and it only struck her now to be conscious of their gayness, thinking in terms of the straight outside observer. Nikki knew that their only connection was between Claire and her old friend Helen and these two women made effusive contact. Nikki felt sympathy for her brother as if some poor naive woman had come to Chix for the first time in her life. She knew it was time for her to act as John looked embarrassed.

"Hey guys, this is my big brother John Wade. You'll hear a lot about him in future as he's part of the gang right now and he'll discover like the rest of us that there's more about him than he's ever known. You'll know Claire and Peter Walker as old friends of Helen and me," Nikki said in strong carrying toners. Immediately, the three of them were absorbed into the mix. John found himself chatting to a blond-haired woman with striking facial features about nothing in particular but he was enjoying himself while a woman with bobbed dark hair was talking to George Channing. Finally, Paul Armstrong found his sharp memory for names and faces found himself arriving with a blond-haired woman called Trisha Williams and her capable dark-haired partner, both of whom recognised him from the Howard League AGM the year before last.

"I remember you. You're Nikki Wade's boss," Sally-Anne said in her friendly tones. The guy felt comfortable and safe and it reminded her of the meeting."We've heard so much about you from Nikki." Paul shook the woman's outstretched hand and knew that he could dispense with his secret nervousness and figured out that the natives were friendly. He joined in the conversation, talking also to Peter Walker who was a naturally quiet guy.

"By the way, this is my daughter Charlie Deed. She's set to be a rising star as a junior barrister," John suddenly said in an effort to be gracious and inclusive.

"Oh dad. You do embarrass me," Charlie replied, rolling her eyes. General laughter greeted this classic remark and the fair-haired woman who seemed close to Jo Mills tactfully told her that everyone had been there at one time or another in their lives As the evening wore on, Charlie figured out that this was a nicely comfortable event as everyone seemed paired off. Conversations sparked off each other in stereo while was good On the one hand, she was a sympathetic observer and on the other hand, she was having a perfectly good time without needing to toss down one drink after another down her throat which she'd done in the past. She'd vaguely heard of Nikki and Helen from her parents and even granddad spoke of them approvingly with a twinkle in his eye. In person, she found them, like the others, perfectly charming to talk to without any sense of an age gap between them. She supposed that she was destined to encounter this growing experience.


	49. Chapter 49

After the first flush of the party's experience had died down a little, Jane Lancaster found herself, like Charlie, on the edges of a sense of camaraderie woven around a group of women and men whose lives had been interconnected by a sequence of trials and tribulations which they'd won through. They got round to reminiscing and laughing about lighter sides of life, especially the judge's strike which John had once organised against the Home Office. Jane regretted that she'd not spotted it in the news or on TV and supposed that her love life had distracted her at the time. Finally, she tackled Jo Mills about it.

"To hear you talk, you sound as if you've survived a world war," she said without thinking. Jo exchanged a sideways glance with John Deed and George and a far-seeing look drifted into her eyes of memories gone by.

"Well we have, haven't we? So much happened so quickly and I remember going from one event to the next without thinking."

"There's no armistice though. Neil Haughton has made his name in keeping the country safe from foreign terrorists. It has improved his profile amongst authoritarians of all political parties. Web should enjoy some peace and quiet when we can," John said reflectively.

The background music suddenly shifted to the precise melodies a Tori Amos CD from a year or so back. It felt right at this moment.

"When did it all start?" asked Beth, the investigative journalist instinct rising to the surface with an invisible pen and shorthand notebook in her hands."We've all come a long way these past few years," she added in reflective tones.

"I'll start. I got my freedom from Larkhall Prison on 24 11 00. Claire Walker and Helen were in on that enterprise and it seemed like a mountain to climb. Marian Chambers was the barrister who I really regret not keeping in touch with ..." Nikki said dreamily as the spiralling music of 'I can't see New York' etched a background to her thoughts. The keening voice and tinkling piano set against the hammer blows of the drums seemed symbolic of life at that stage, hope battling against doom.

"Nikki needed a better job than the lowly office job so we thought, why not clean up her record so Jo Mills handled the re-appeal in front of John, Monty and Joseph Channing. That was on 6 4 01 if I remember right," put in Helen.

"That night, Sally Anne went to Chix with the gang and we hooked up," Trisha said dreamily, linking arms with her partner and leaning her head against hers.

"And I had been driven out of the police force by the same homophobic coppers, one of whom tried to rape Trisha so I got our present nest egg from the compensation money for being shat on in every way possible. That was on 31 8 01," interposed Sally Anne

"I was the barrister and John was the judge. Alice snapped me up in short order at the celebration night at Chix. That was starting to become traditional rite of passage," laughed George. This tale telling felt like fun as everyone was getting their say like some party game.

"Except for me. I was very shy," Jo said meekly which made Jane laugh affectionately

"Meanwhile, back to the ranch at Larkhall Prison, I took up the baton that Helen left me and I got stitched up for a hit and run murder and the gang rallied round when I'd been an idiot over Fenner and I was seriously doing my liver a lot of no good. On 27 10 01, George here was the barrister and John completed the hat trick against the establishment," grinned Karen as the natural flow of events meant that this was her moment.

"And of course, Karen got off with me at the Chix celebration as she was a quick learner," interjected Beth with a broad grin.

"Since I was becoming big headed, I thought I'd settle accounts psychologically speaking and I wrote a damning report of Larkhall Prison," Nikki chipped in.

"Typical Nikki. two bites of the cherry. This got me my one and only scoop as a campaigning journalist," put in Beth.

"So I'd completely missed out on suffering for the cause of freedom so the establishment paid me the highest compliment of thinking I'd put Nikki up to it and they tried to scare the shit out of me by slapping the Official Secrets Act on me," laughed Helen as time had reduced the trauma of the time to a grotesque farce.

"Seeing that I'd been hogging the judicial spotlight, Monty handled the trial and smartly booted it into touch. That was on 24 1 02 and Jo and George shared the legal defence and worked together so admirably," grinned John, feeling the life and soul of the party while Charlie's eyes were standing out on stalks. All this time, she'd never conceived of grown ups behaving badly.

"And seeing that you'd slain all the legal dragons that were going, the whole gang of us infiltrated the Howard League of Penal Reform AGM and stood up for the principles of tolerance. John was last year's speaker on 19 11 02 and I did it this year on 11 5 03 ," Kristine finally intervened in her best professorial style of academic details.

"And Rose Stewart-Wade was born on 13 3 02 and all's ended happily after," finished Helen as she thought as this round robin accelerated in pace and excitement.

"Now who's talking about being greedy," retorted Karen, a big grin spreading across her face.

"Hey wait a moment you guys. Jane and I became an item when we met up at Chix on 1 3 03, didn't we?" broke in Jo, desperate to get in her personal good news in company and totally oblivious to Charlie's wide eyed expression

"You're so right," Jane replied, giving her partner an affectionate hug,

"We're leaving out Nikki's big brother John Wade who joined my law firm and is doing a great job. He's repaid my faith in him in spadefuls," interposed Claire softly. Brimming over with emotion, Nikki slipped one arm round his shoulders, tears of happiness in her eyes.

"I guess that's it," Paul said softly as he racked his brains for any other important world shattering events. There was a heartfelt pause until an incredulous Charlie finally gave voice to the one life enhancing demonstration in her life which utterly eclipsed all her student protests and sit ins.

"Aren't you forgetting the one mega important event? On 16 2 03, there was the biggest demonstration in London where two million marched the streets to protest against the New Labour's immoral war in Iraq that was founded on an oil grab and based on a sexed up dossier of weapons of mass destruction due to land on London in forty five minutes and all the politicians meekly falling into line. I was on the march and it totally spanned the streets and cheers echoed and re-echoed down the streets. Every political group was there from CND to the Muslim Association of Great Britain and the Socialist Worker's Party. It was so terrific and mind-boggling . I was hoping you'd all be there but I couldn't see you." put in Charlie, her voice gathering excitement, her blue eyes shining and hopping from one foot to another.

An immense wave of chagrin swept around the room. Everyone was looking around to see if someone could get them out of this gigantic collective cock-up. John felt called upon to be spokesman and he stepped up to the mark.

"All right so we missed the boat. I don't suppose there's another antiwar march due to take place in the near future. After all, it's in London and it sounds like fun and one in the eye to the apparatchiks in another field besides our own," John said slowly, his mind working like lightning. He felt that everyone had been to the party but them and this needed remedying. Charlie grinned gleefully as she knew that her father was Superman and would come to the rescue and she'd been guilty of assuming they'd be there and not picking up the phone and making sure.

"I'm glad you asked me dad. I'm a member of Stop the War Coalition and there's a national demonstration in two week's time. You're all invited and it will be so good to be there. There's an event in Trafalgar Square of releasing a black balloon for every soldier that's been killed in Iraq and there's a brilliant electric violinist so it's cultural as well as political," Charlie replied rapidly, using her big blue baby eyes to best effect, something that made Jo and George grin seeing John getting a bit of his own back.

"You keep us posted Charlie. It's time Rose came to her first protest and carry on tradition," Helen replied with a warm-hearted smile. The thought of getting back in the action excited her. It was only just then that George became aware of the fading sounds of a police siren and she grinned as she knew what these sounds foreshadowed. A polite knock on the open door foreshadowed two women wearing smart black trousers and open necked shirts, their hair slightly ruffled and another two more feminine looking women wearing flowered dresses.

"To those who don't know you, allow me to introduce you to our two friendly neighbourhood policewomen, Ros and Jenny and also Joy and Maureen, otherwise known as I Martin and DCI Taylor. You came just as we were having a party game like how we each got involved in the long running dramatic history of trials, tribulations and falling in love," George offered in her most beguiling tones, knowing that the four of them were zooming in late, having apologised for their lateness as they'd just knocked off their shifts and were still mentally halfway in transition.

"Yes well, it must be in May 2000 when we nearly nicked Helen for swerving out into the path of an oncoming car but let her off as she said she was avoiding a kamikaze cat as we figured out that these two nurses were heading off for bed so why ruin their evening? We drove her and Nikki home from Chix one evening when they were too pissed to drive," Ros said with much deliberation."Your turn, you guys," she added politely, passing on the baton. Jenny was relieved that her partner had done the speaking and she and Ros was pleased at the appreciative grins.

"We've done nothing much compared with you guys. We've heard about you when we've gone to Chix when we can find time. Oh yes, we saved Jo from the clutches of her ex by nicking her so the path of true love with Jane Lancaster could run true," Joy ad libbed, starting to find her feet already in this welcoming atmosphere. Maureen spotted the guys present but figured out that George wouldn't have invited them without a good reason.

"I thought I knew about all your old boyfriends Jo," Charlie said jokingly and trying to sound sophisticated. A second later, she found out how badly she miscalculated.

"A female ex Charlie. She was an old school-friend who took a different path from me. I owe her something in showing me possibilities but this is where my heart now lies," Jo replied trying to soften the blow. Again Charlie's mouth hung open. She had not expected this.

"This calls for a group hug. After all, it's my party," George exclaimed feeling overjoyed that everyone had made the party. She was not in the least bit bothered by the prospects of finally being on a demonstration rather than being chauffeur for a load of disreputable judges going on strike.

And all the men and women came together to clasp each other in the meeting of hearts and minds. During the long emotional pause, the group became aware of the music playing softly while the lights shone low. Banks of violins cast light and shadows on Tori Amos singing and tinkling away on her piano and softly insisting again on this brief phrase.

"Sights and sounds

Pull me back down another year

I was here

I was here."

"She's with us also," Helen said softly, thinking back with the others there of the concert they'd been to. The last traces of violins trailed off into distance leaving them with their thoughts. This was a moment they wanted to cling onto but they also knew that this moment had to pass.

"What'll we do now?" Trisha asked, sensing that this party needed its lights and shades from her experience. George looked at the CD collection she'd been discreetly been feeding into the party mix and lit on a Kylie Minogue CD compilation. That was the answer, she decided and the strains of 'Can't Get You out of your Head' started to pump hypnotically intro the atmosphere. Delightedly, the women paired off and danced

"Mum and Jo?" Charlie said incredulously to John as she was still struggling to take in the way that George and Alice gyrated delightedly to the music along with Jo and Jane. Kristine was inwardly amused at Charlie's reaction especially as little did John's innocent daughter know the full truth of her own varied tastes.

"We are all good friends these days Charlie," John said tolerantly.

When the second track,"Spinning Round" succeeded it, Nikki couldn't resist taking Helen's hands in hers.

"This is our song Helen. I know you'll remember where we first heard of it together," Nikki said, a triumphant smile on her face.

"But of course," Helen replied, a bewitching smile spreading across her face and her eyes and teeth glinting. This was one of the songs playing that very first time Helen pursued Nikki to Chix and they gradually took each into each other's emotional possession..


	50. Chapter 50

Nikki's parents were happy to drive up to London from the countryside every so often to visit their daughter's flat. They liked the homelike comfortable atmosphere and Helen's infallible hospitality with a nicely poured cup of tea and had thoroughly accepted Rose as their granddaughter as much as their son John's children were. Helen and Nikki had been visiting them for years and, without any conscious thought, they started returning the compliment. Once again, they were enabled to relive their own parenthood at one comfortable remove. Most pleasing of all was their discovery that Nicola and John were becoming friends again after all these years. On the particular November day, Mr Wade found himself sitting in a comfortable armchair, a cup of tea balancing on the side, raindrops trickling down the window but the world was warm inside. He looked fondly at Rose who had visibly developed since their last contact.

"You might find that Rose grows up with her own strong personality and will follow her own direction in life," Mr Wade said with a mischievous grin.

"That's the prospect that haunts us," Nikki replied with a worried expression."There's so much in the big wide world laying in wait for her, how she'll get on in school, how she'll get to stand up proud for herself and will we be wise enough as parents."

Mr Wade had learnt to read between the lines and Mrs Wade looked on silently. Both saw that their daughter was worrying in case she should be blamed for hers and Helen's lifestyle choices. He played a straight bat as was the family style, mentally counted to ten and then spoke as the words framed themselves.

"You'll have to take it one step at a time, Nicola and you Helen. You might be surprised that parents aren't born wise, ready equipped with all seeing wisdom. We used my upbringing and your mother's without thinking about it and it was full of certainties for good and bad and, looking back on everything, we know we didn't get things right. It caused the rupture in our relationships when you were sent down from boarding school."

Nikki drew a breath of mixed fear and relief. She could see it coming that, for the first time, they'd talk of the occasion when she'd been sent down for a life sentence and Nikki was starting to become more conscience stricken about the matter. Already, she and Helen were starting to have vague dreams for Rose's future and be protective for her as she was gradually becoming a little person in her own right. Helen had turned her head away from tending to Rose and a troubled expression spread across her face as she felt this was Nikki's business so she was tongue-tied and helpless.

"I guess we'd better talk about how you both felt when I got sent down. I never realised just how much a shock it must have been to you both. I guess I felt that I hadn't any emotional room outside the realisation that, because of one insane moment, I'd lost my freedom and I'd blown everything I'd spent years working for,"" Nikki said softly and hesitantly, a few words at a time and her big brown eyes looking appealingly at both parents in turn. Mrs Wade mutely appealed to her husband to do the talking as this was beyond her capacity to handle. Mr Wade swallowed a lump in his throat and strode out emotionally blind into the darkness.

"The Donald Wade you know when you were sixteen or so was so driven by his duties his ambitions for the family and your mother likewise and this rubbed off on John. That man was much less free than he is now but I have to accept responsibility for his actions and thoughts even if I'm free from the worst of them. Of course, the tabloid headlines were the first to hit him when you were first arrested and they completely warped his thinking together with nightmares about what would the neighbours think of me and how we'd failed as parents. He turned everything into blinding anger as the only way we could deal with his feelings. It was like the time you were sent down from boarding school only a thousand times blacker, with the TV and press feeding on it like carrion crows. your mother was intensely loyal to the family but couldn't see you as part of it. Thank God we finally got talking again when we'd both grown up and were ready to talk..."

As a wave of confused emotions swirled through Nikki as she saw her actions through her parent's eyes, the slight break in her father's eyes at the very end drew her attention to his briefly closed eyes and a tear-drop or two. This immensely moved her to hugely sympathise with his and her mother. Helen caught the delicacy of Nikki's moods from long experience and saw the tears start to stream down her face as long suppressed guilt broke through the surface and she moved to comfort her with gentle shushing sounds.

Mr Wade looked embarrassed and guilty and was feeling for the right things to say but his wife got in first with her sensible words.

"It's all water under the bridge now. We know we got things wrong and it's all the more reason to be family right now. Shall I'll make us all a nice cup of tea now if you don't mind Helen."

"I'll never knock tea drinking again. I really could do with one right now. I ," Nikki said halfway between laughter and tears. This sort of gesture seemed mindless at one stage and now it suggested a mysterious healing process by actions where words had failed. Her mother was showing immense respect for Helen's domain.

"Go right ahead Mrs Wade. You know where everything is," Helen said cheerfully with a look of gratitude. Presently, Nikki and Helen lay back to hear the reassuring clinking sounds in the kitchen. After all the journey sketched out at George's party, this was Nikki right back at the beginning mending the final fence with her family. Both Nikki's parents knew their daughter needed to settle this account and move on to deal with Rose's upbringing.

Mr Wade was a little nonplussed to hear his daughter Nicola on the phone so soon after their last visit and speaking to him in a small, meek voice. Something was up, he thought as she started talking randomly about nothing in particular and finally, he called her gently to order.

"So what do you really want Nicola? I know you very well by now."

"Er, I was wondering if you'd have any objection to Helen and I taking Rose on an antiwar demonstration. We'll be ever so careful of her."

"Do you mean the national demonstration against the war in Iraq, starting from Hyde Park at 12pm and finishing in Trafalgar Square?" Nikki's father answered with perfect precision. The dark-haired woman's mouth hung open with shock and surprise.

"You know about it dad?"

"So much so that your mother and I will be on it," Nikki's father answered with a breezy sense of approval before landing another blinding revelation on his bedazzled daughter."We went on the big two million demonstration last February with some other service types and all of us thought that that man's assurance of mobile missile launchers poised to wipe us all out was a load of eyewash."

This utterly took the wind out of Nikki's sails. She'd adjusted to her parents becoming liberal in their old age but she never expected them to steal a march on her in outright militancy. With a great effort of will, she pulled together her scattered thoughts before speaking.

"You wouldn't mind if you and mum met up with us and made a family outing?"

"And help out with looking after Rose," finished her father."The answer to both questions is yes. Suppose we make our way to your flat and travel up to Hyde Park by tube or taxi, we've done this before so we're old warriors. John's also coming over. We've talked a lot over the past few months."

"So you're at the back of John finally seeing the light?" Nikki exclaimed as enlightenment dawned as if the light was suddenly switched on.

"Isn't that what parents are there for? Mind you, I think John was rethinking his outlook on life so wee helped it on its way," answered Nikki's father with delicious amusement in his voice. Nikki burst out laughing at her father's humour and sharp observation and Helen saw a broad grin split her face from ear to ear.

"I love you dad and you mum," she finally said.

"What caused you to think of joining this demonstration?" Nikki's father enquired in interested tones.

"John Deed, our high court judge friend, and his daughter were at a party to which a load of us went to and she was the only one at the big February demonstration so we decided we couldn't be upstaged. Besides, we saw Neil Haughton the Home Secretary on TV and that got us to start making serious enquiries."

"We'll probably pick up a placard or two at Hyde Park. They're pretty organised at that sort of thing so we'll try and meet up with your friends as well. The more the merrier though a big demonstration makes it hard to pick out faces in the crowd," continued Nikki's father. For once, Nikki didn't mind following orders.

The day before the big day,picket signs galore were being made ready, coaches from all parts of England, Scotland and Wales were booked to drive to the pick-up points, police were readied to put in a solid day's overtime, many critical discussions took place in many households and amongst them were these.

"I'm not going on this demo wearing jeans and looking like an impoverished ageing student or new age traveller," George declared roundly.

"Charlie's bound to do that for us," Alice said mischievously, noticing how her partner winced at the thought and guessing right." I fancy wearing my new pair of leather trousers and chestnut coloured coat buttoning up to the neck. They both need wearing in,".Alice continued and George grinned broadly at the prospect of the dark-haired woman looking like eye candy.

"I know I have to wear flat heels as I'm not totally impractical but I'll wear black trousers and my new top and jacket. I have studied the weather forecast you know," George said imperiously.

Nikki and Helen had opted for jeans and trainers and Trisha and Sally-Anne opted to dress down by Chix standards so as to blend into the crowd. Paul Williams, a naturally casual dresser didn't have to make many adjustments to the needs of the day and looked like a hardened demonstrator. Claire and Peter opted for a more open necked shirt version of their normal formal appearance after carefully checking the weather forecast.

As for John, he was torn between his immaculate dark suit, shirt and tie which gave him his presence or else opting for comfort and a quick phone call to George tipped the valence towards his natural style. He concluded that reverting in dress style to the student demonstrator he'd been many years ago when he was footloose and fancy free was a psychological mistake.

Karen looked in her bedroom mirror and her reflection of her white pullover and snug fitting jeans revealing her curves all the right places gave her great satisfaction. Her recent quick study course of TV politics provided the interesting perception that the Prime Minister looked and sounded like Jim bloody Fenner, only his odious blend of fake holiness enabled him to do way greater damage. Now she realised why she'd subconsciously avoided watching the six o clock news.

"You look great sweetheart but what do I wear?" Beth asked doubtfully, looking in the wardrobe where arrays of glamorous outfits weren't suited to a fair sized hike round London. She passed by her high-heeled shoes and opted for a pair of ballet pumps which gave her inspiration to build up from the floor. She selected a pair of three quarter length vaguely sporty looking trousers, a tight shirt and a lime green jacket. She wouldn't violate her natural tendency to dress up and wasn't this march about freedom anyway.

"I'll stay warm like this. You know what a fashion victim I am.," she confessed.

"You look gorgeous sweetheart," Karen said reassuringly and she meant it.

"I've just had John on the phone," answered George in amused tones down the line to Jo. Dressing up was part of the fun, Jo reasoned but there is a downside as she fretted in a moment of indecision and immediately sought help."John's wearing his suit and I'm wearing my smart trousers and jacket. I'm not wearing heels though- too risky."

"Good," Jo replied in reassured tones, looking at Jane who spent her working life wearing the same nurse's uniform day after day."That's what I wanted to hear."

"Er dad,"Nikki said a little nervously down the phone to her father."You don't mind if a number of my friends call in to come with us. The general consensus is that our place makes a good point to assemble at before heading off to Hyde Park. We might easily get lost in the crowd from what we hear." Plans had moved on apace and she'd considered that the original idea of a family outing needed to be adjusted. Her father had come to the same conclusion independently from her and he felt calm and collected as his best blazer had been laid out ready to wear for the great day with as much meaning as he had planned for any service reunion.

"The more the merrier. There's just one condition though. Your friends have to be punctual. You know what I'm like about people being late," he answered with a mixture of reassurance and firmness of tone.

"Yes dad," Nikki replied with apparent meekness. It did not occur to her to bridle at the way her father was taking charge as was his habit. She understood the need for organisation and, besides, she and Helen knew very well what their friends' devotion to the cause was like.

Many pairs of eyes were glued to the TV screen watching the news because the upcoming demonstration was surely a really most important event as all roads should lead to Rome. This time, the smartly dressed news presenters were off on the wrong trail talking about the current ephemera of Westminster politics dressed up in robes of importance conveying nothing. Never mind, we'll make them listen, they vowed.

A bright winter sunshine greeted the day and households everywhere burst into fevered activity. Those experienced in the ways of demonstration got into automatic gear while others put on their self-appointed robes and headed off down to Nikki and Helen's flat, Nikki's parents being the first visitors. As a stream of visitors followed in rapid succession, Nikki's father looked on approvingly as their daughter's friends who were polite and well-mannered. At last he he clapped eyes on John Deed whom he'd heard so much about from his daughter and the man impressed him immediately. The living room soon became standing room only and finally, the crowd trooped out of the front door.

"Fancy seeing you here?" exclaimed Nikki to Cassie who was dressed up for outdoors and as she was zipping up Michael's anorak for him, she was a little preoccupied.

"Looks like we're headed for the right place. You don't think we are going to miss out," Roisin replied, taking in the crowd of women and a sprinkling of men looking as if they were either headed for a demonstration or at the very least to some sort of an outside party.


	51. Chapter 51

"There's a fair few of us already. Hope we're not the only ones," Cassie said with tentative optimism. She was new to this game and hadn't got the feel of this event, Mr Wade thought kindly of this nice young fair-haired girl and decided it was down to him to give the stuff to feed the troops.

"Don't worry. I've done my research. There won't be two million like last time but mark my words, there'll be enough of us to put on a decent show," he said cheerily as he scanned the length of the street to spot the sign for the underground station he was aiming for. His enthusiasm was contagious as he strode at the front of the crowd, his wife patiently keeping her son company. John smiled tolerantly as he compared this live wire of an older man with his determined daughter whom he'd known for a fair few years now. Her many friends were happy to follow his firm leadership with friendly amusement mixed with respect. John Wade went with the flow, this being strongly reminiscent of a family outing many years ago and, yes, his sister Nicola grinned back at him in a friendly fashion. On the spur of the moment, he asked her a question.

"I notice that all your friends call you Nikki but I've been used to Nicola way back like our parents. Do you have any preferences?"

"I'm getting used to having a double identity John. Mum and dad call me Nicola because they're used to it. I don't need to prove myself as cool and hip like I used to so if you're more comfortable with Nicola, I don't mind," she answered in easy tones while Helen strode on purposefully pushing Rose in her pushchair.

Nikki's father gesticulated to the underground sign for the benefit of the others and soon they poured down the steps to the underground. John threw sidelong glances at the man who was carrying banner poles and a brownish banner and his friend who was wearing a long dark coat and jeans and carrying a megaphone. It was this implement which stirred John's capacious memory just as John's greying good looks prompted the man's memory and he spoke first.

"I know you. You're the judge that led the strike against the Home office a couple of years back and organised a really great picket line," he said.

John visibly preened himself at such public recognition to general amusement from the rest of the gang.

"Now he'll be totally insufferable," George stage whispered, her pronunciation cutting through the background sounds of a busy underground foyer. Nikki's father soon picked up the general drift.

"It's really good to meet you again,"John answered shaking the other man's spare hand freely.

"We're along for the ride as well. We were there with John as well. I hope this is going to be a good party," Trisha said perkily.

The man's eyes glazed over temporarily as he hadn't thought of it in these terms but yes, it could be that as well besides the demonstration his hard work had help to plan.

"Isn't someone going to get the tickets? We'd better be on our way rather than holding up the concourse," interjected Roisin who had her moments when she came to the fore. Michael and Niamh happily trotted with their parents, feeling that this excursion would be different from normal.

"Allow me. I'll pay for the tickets and we'll sort out afterwards," George said imperiously as she was nearest to the ticket office. Secretly, she was aghast at so much humanity packed together cheek by jowl but she put up with it. Karen took the tickets off her and dished them out to the others. The drift of crowds took them along the incredibly narrow spaces into the bowels of the earth or so George felt it, down a short flight of steps and onto the dingy but functional platform.

"There's a few more of us than there were before," murmured Beth to Karen who grinned happily. Already, their crowd filled up the platform and there were a good number of unfamiliar studenty looking people who appeared from out of nowhere. Meanwhile, Nikki, her parents and John helped Helen negotiate the pushchair down the steps and clustered protectively around her as she resolutely pushed Rose along.

"How do you tell when one of these tube trains arrive? It's not like waving for a taxi," muttered George peevishly. It was clear to her friends that this wasn't her natural environment but she took it in good part.

"There darling. The overhead signs tell you the destinations and when it's coming. It'll be in two minutes time," Alice helpfully advised her.

"Oh good," George said, somewhat mollified.

"Hey, are you going to be all right getting your baby onto the train?" the man with the megaphone asked Helen with gentle concern.

"That's really kind of you,"Nikki said, turning round with an appreciative smile."We really could do with all the help we could get in keeping the crowds and doors back when Helen gets the pushchair through the doors."

"I'm scared," Helen muttered tersely under her breath. She'd been gritting her teeth manoeuvring her was along the underground passages and the flights of steps. The fact that she'd used them many times over the years didn't reassure her but threw her. Now it boiled to the surface as only now could she try to speak.

"It's not just numbers though they do matter," the man said softly, picking up the thought .

"We'll all help," a sharp eared Karen intervened with her warm, comforting manner which sparked the others to focus in on Helen's dilemma. There was an air of indecisiveness amongst the crowd that triggered the emotional warning.

Suddenly with a succession of soothing, whooshing clattering sounds, the train slid into the station and the doors opened up, one of them right next to Helen. Her eyes opened momentarily with fear and Nikki spotted it.

"Quick Helen. The rest of you guys make a shield for us," Nikki called loudly and their moves snapped the irrational feeling of impotence of friends so close yet unable to act. The men in the party stood by the doors, blocking them from closing while the rest surged in, sweeping up Helen to get into the train. John Deed had a particular expression of concern on his face as finally everyone was in, the doors slammed shut

and the train started sliding smoothly along the tracks.

"We're on our way,"Mr Wade said gleefully, recalling long ago trips to the seaside for his wife with Nicola and John in the back seat."Everything's all right," he added kindly, beating Nikki to it by seconds Both Jo and George spotted the interesting personality quirk that led John Deed, the most naturally masterful of men, to concede leadership but this elderly live wire took his natural place in the great scheme of things amongst these strong minded individuals, their radical activist friend included.

"I'm really sorry I freaked out back then," apologised Helen. The parents amongst the crowd were the first to smile understandingly and murmur reassurance followed by the rest."We're all right now."

As Alice surveyed the train using her height advantage, it occurred to her first that everyone felt alike as if they were all one. A surge of joy rose up inside her that they were all headed the same way including perfect strangers.

"So where do we drop off, Lancaster Gate or Marble Arch?" Cassie demanded of Mr Wade, their unofficial leader.

"Oh, whoever knows the underground best should best decide. We need to stop halfway along the frontage of Hyde Park from my experience," explained Mr Wade in crisp tones, leaving his children smiling at how typical their father was behaving, as if he were on the bridge of a destroyer he'd commanded.

"I only know Oxford Street and Bond Street so leave me out of this," declaimed George to light-hearted laughter.

"It's Marble Arch then. Next stop," decided Cassie in a loud carrying voice to be heard by all. Her daily work took her along this route just as the automatic announcement told them they were arriving.

"We'll get it right this time,"John Deed said in determined fatherly tones that hit the right spot and reminded his daughter Charlie fondly of times gone by. This time, all the men and women worked cooperatively so that Helen and Rose were swept forwards in a protective shield out of the train and along the platform.

"Hey, there's a lot of us," commented Karen brightly as she sensed the growing multitudes funnelled out of the carriages behind them. The wave of people swept along and upwards to the blinding rectangle of white light and fresh air and the invisible chants of "Socialist Worker" from somewhere outside. Once they'd blinked their eyes back into working order, they caught sight of an amorphous mass of people, spilling along the pavement and towards a gap in the line of park railings. it was only now they realised that there were thousands of them- of us once they melted into the oneness. Overhead, a brilliant blue sky was well timed for such a winter's day.

"I'll have a copy if you don't mind," George offered with a dazzling smile and her impeccably aristocratic manner to the youth who didn't look too different from Charlie's friends from her student days "It's all about us,"she added daring anyone to challenge her. It started some of the others to read all about it.

"Which way now?"asked John of Mr Wade as they milled around amongst the crowd with no discernible sense of collective purpose. To more impatient spirits, it felt like a scene out of Waiting for Godot.

"Follow the flag as always or in this case, the banner,"the older man pronounced with utter certainty. He'd taken his bearings of the brown banner that was now being unfurled announcing the Hackney Stop the War Coalition. It was eye catching as the letters were in bold black capital letters with holes in it shaped by the letters. .

"Yes but when?" an impatient George was the first to ask while Jo smiled at how typically her friend was behaving. Some things don't change, she thought.

"It'll happen when it happens. These things take time you know," Mr Wade said as if he were a born again hippie, just letting things flow.

In a little while, the man used his megaphone to point to the banner as it started to edge forwards. The rest of the group caught on and followed the yellow brick road in a slow swirling movement in the direction of an entrance to the park. As they moved slowly towards the huge crowd a little set back from the road ablaze with banners and picket signs in fiery reds and black, Mr Wade hailed another couple dressed in regulation blazer and sensible coat, dress and shoes.

"Hello, it's good to see you both. We're glad you could turn out at as good a place to meet as anywhere," he said as if he'd spotted him through the tobacco smoke in a Royal Navy club, complete with mahogany furnishings and Johnny Walker whisky.

"Is this your son John and your daughter Nicola? How you've grown since we last met, maybe twenty years ago," came the hearty reply which might have made Nikki cringe with embarrassment but didn't.

"John's wife Jill couldn't make it. Family business you know but permit me to introduce Nicola's partner and Helen and their granddaughter Rose to add to our fine grandchildren," Mr Wade answered without a flicker of embarrassment. Nikki took over the pushchair while Helen advanced forward with a broad smile and a firm handshake.

"Good handshake, eh? You can tell a lot about a person's character by a firm handshake," the elderly man with the large domed head answered approvingly."I have the honour to be the captain of Donald's sister ship. You can't buy friendship that lasts all these years. I also approve of people who make a stand for their beliefs."

A curious feeling ran through Nikki that these people who once bored her to tears when forced to meet grown-ups who all talked the same, were curiously on the same wavelength. Without compromising hers and Helen's beliefs, this man's words struck powerful resonances with them but were typical of the older generation.

"We must be moving on, Stuart. We can talk at the same time. We can't hold up the column," Mr Wade reminded the other man in firm tones as they were in danger in being left behind.

"Can I have a whistle mummy?" Charlie asked with a wide eyed look in her blue eyes that consciously evoked their shared past. George and John caught the drift and remembered the snatched family outings before they were one again immersed in the grown-up preoccupations of ambition and personality clashes. Amongst the loosely gathered crowds in the park, hooters were going off randomly and whistles were blowing and the opportunist Cockney salesmen were making the most of the situation.

"Of course we will," George said with a broad grin on her face, watching as Charlie's eyes momentarily widened. This wasn't the elegant, sophisticated barrister in court, this was her mother letting her hair down. it started off the others in the gang.

As they came to the assembly point, they came across assistants with a stack of picket signs to hand out. Instantly, a stark message imprinted itself before everyone's eyes. It was the word 'Bliar' in deadly black lettering contrasting with red splashes of blood on a white background. Instantly, a queue formed to pick up a sign, John Deed and Mr Wade at the head. It epitomised both men's beliefs. John Wade smiled with her sister to see their father lean the picket sign against his shoulder as if it were a rifle. Karen was next to join in as the feel of the placard was a declaration of war against lies and deceptions. Charlie's eyes opened wide to see her mother of all people brandish her sign with a touch of gleeful theatrics. The others in the crowd followed this determined example.

"I've yet to see everything if granddad were here doing the same,"she muttered a little too loudly. "He would have come if he hadn't gone down with a dreadful cold. I absolutely forbade him to come on pain of severe punishment," George loudly replied to her daughter."My father's a Court of Appeal judge and he's frightfully angry with the government the same as we all are," she explained brightly to their friend with the megaphone.

Now I've heard everything, the man thought dazedly to himself. It was in his ABC of political education that die-hard Conservatives behaved like die-hard Conservatives and were the last people to join him on the barricades. Even after the judge's strike led by the formidable John Deed had failed to shift this mindset. A warm soft smile spread across his face on a day when anything seemed possible.

"What's happening now?" Alice asked aloud as a feeling of formlessness spread across the multitudes. Mr Wade alone had previous experience of this sort of thing despite Nikki and her friends' track record of assorted militancy.

"We talk amongst ourselves and anyone we happen to meet," a random stranger said softly, sliding dreamily into view across the field of vision before disappearing into the crowd. Why not, people thought as they realised that other people looked pretty cool. You didn't have to stick to the security blanket of the people you arrived with. As Helen was talking rapidly to a couple of young students who looked fresh to the process of life, John Deed saw a sense of purpose in the crowd as banners started to coalesce up into what looked like the front end of a procession. It looked like something was about to begin.


	52. Chapter 52

"Are there any brass band around? I loathe brass bands," exclaimed George loudly to a ripple of general amusement.

"I'm not too keen on them myself," smiled the random stranger."I like everything from Vivaldi to rhythm and blues to listen to at home. On demonstrations, I like reggae best of all as it makes for a really good street party atmosphere, believe me. I go to May Day rallies so I put up with brass bands as they're traditional but that's as far as it goes."

"An interesting example. You strike me as having individual tastes," George said approvingly as her arm linked with Alice's."So long as we have some fun, that's all I ask for."

"Come on, we've got to form up," Helen broke in sternly, a trace of her Wing Governor persona still within her mental compass. Jo threw her a military salute with her spare arm as Jane grinned broadly as their friend but she moved into line. She knew someone had to say it.

"Not bad for a civilian," observed Mr Wade cheerily, Both John and Nikki's first instincts were to roll up their eyes signifying typical father till they saw what a time of his life he was having and how quietly happy their mother was in herself and to be surrounded by all the family who were getting on so well. The gradual forming up of the multitudes into a determined column made Cassie and Roisin's spirits soar with exaltation- they'd never seen anything like this before in their lives. Their children were having a whale of a time, happily blowing whistles along with everyone around them who were doing the same and blowing hooters in a carnival atmosphere. All this added a magical edge to the striking visual display. As the loosely spread out crowd came together to signify that this demonstration really meant it caused Trisha and Sally-Anne to go wide-eyed in wonder as it really took them out of themselves. The way that smiling faces surrounded them all and brave banners fluttered in the wind moved them all.

"Oughtn't we walk behind our banner?"enquired John Wade of his sister as her shiny bright eyes and warm smile revealed her feelings of completion. Her brother was quickly picking up on this street theatre, she felt, regretting that she couldn't link arms with him as she did with Helen on her other side who carried her placard and managed to push a fast asleep Rose in her pushchair

The column of marching people revealed a mass of people ahead of the gang with the back of heads and an assortment of placards and banners in front of them and, in particular, the brown Stop the War Banner that all of the group adopted as their emblem. To the side of them, they stole glimpses of the timeless greenery in the park, even on a cold November day such as this. Only John Deed could get a sense of the length of the column as it bore down on the entrance as his natural curiosity prompted him to veer outside to the left of the demarcation line. The feeling of forward propulsion of the demonstration inspired him as much as the sight and sounds greatly impressed him. Beth could see this as she was nearest to him.

"You're not too cold John?" she asked of him as he strode along with hands thrust into his trouser pockets while his daughter walked comfortably along in her jeans and buttoned up black jacket.

"No more than you are. I've always been built hardy," John boasted with his larger than life voice and looking in turn at his friend's thin lime coloured jacket.

"So we're both fashion victims," she retorted, hoping that their rapid walking would keep her warm and envying Karen's more practical choice of clothes. There is some point to the universal uniform of all demonstrators, she thought to herself.

"There really is such a colossal number of people on the move Beth. You'll see when we come out of the park and turn sharp right," he replied with a quick grin and an adroit change of conversation topic that both Jo and George spotted immediately and smiled under their breath at, having known him the longest.

Finally, a black ornamental gatepost announced the park exit and suddenly, the gang saw the row of heads in front of them wheel round sharply to the right across the pavement and onto the broad dual carriageway, much to Claire's amazement. She'd battled through bumper to bumper traffic, rubber tyres gripping the road and tension constrained by her metal box. Here, the freedom to breathe was noticed by others more experienced as freshness and innocence in people of various ages and experiences.

When John Deed looked round as the rear end of the column making its way to the park gates, his mouth opened wide in incredulous joy. This was bigger league than the demonstration he'd help organise along with the man with the megaphone, man of the world though he always thought he'd been. He drew the attention of the others to it and only Mr Wade had seen the two million strong march in London earlier that year when both front and back of that march was out of sight.

"Get the troops out now...get the troops out now," the man started to chant in the near silence except for the sounds of marching feet. John Deed looked at Mr Wade who nodded approvingly at the sentiments and they started to give verbal backup. Karen looked around at Beth and Jane who were momentarily hesitating so she lent her naturally carrying voice to the chant. The other two women looked around and though what the hell and joined in, soon followed by Jo Mills who felt extraordinarily relaxed about herself. Meanwhile George was now innocently preoccupied with blowing her whistle in approximate tempo with the other blasts of sounds while Alice hugged her spare arm affectionately. Unusually, Helen and Nikki were very cautious about joining in although Claire and Peter felt that the true path of moderation was to join in with the others and this was only because of their concern for their daughter Rose

Suddenly the man with the megaphone decided to switch chants and suddenly there came the cryptic repetitive chant that puzzled George on first hearing. John remembered back to the judge's strike he'd organised and knew what was coming. Then the chant was directed at his personal enemy in the battles for justice against all the apparatchiks who were attempting to strangle the impulse for freedom. Now this antiwar march was addressing the bigger picture, the source of all lies and distortions. He could see from George's frown that his old friend and mother of their child was puzzled.

"Tony Blair is a right

Is a right, is a right...

"Tony Blair is a right

Is a right, is a right...".

"Wait for it George," John whispered under his breath and George looked questioningly back at him. How on earth was this annoying man so omniscient about such matters?

"Tony Blair is a right

Tory bastard."

Mr Wade and his friend roared with laughter, which Paul Armstrong and Peter Williams joined in with. Their diverse outlooks on life were amused by this shaft of with and blunt speaking. The women in the gang quickly joined in and were the first to snap into action to join in when this verbal riff was repeated. All of them strode happily along the untrammelled width of the dual carriageway without any sense of restraint in this carnival atmosphere of defiance and celebration. The street was theirs and so was the world as the winter sunlight shone in their eyes. Meanwhile, Rose remained peaceful and content in the depths of her pushchair and Michael and Niamh walked alongside her, as good as gold..

"What's the difference between Jim Fenner and Tony Blair?" Karen called to Helen over the street sounds as the two women temporarily came to be walking together. The carved shape of Marble Arch was moving further away and they noticed that some groups with their banners moved ahead of them and some overtook from behind as relative positions shifted around.

"I don't know. What is the difference? They're both con artists," called back Helen.

"Exactly. One tried to fool a nation. The other restricted himself to Larkhall Prison. They even look the same for Christ's sake. Blair isn't known to be a rapist, that's all," retorted Karen in pithy tones. It made both women grin and was the one and only occasion they discussed the man who was now dead and buried.

As the demonstration veered right and turned down along Park Lane, George emitted a cry of protest.

"Why aren't we should be going down Oxford Street? It is my spiritual home after all."

"Even you can't shop and protest at the same time. Female multitasking has its limits," grinned Jo Mills at her friend, feeling happy at everyone close to her being around her.

"Spoilsport," retorted George, knowing full well that Jo was speaking the truth but that didn't stop George from wanting her cake and eating it too.

Suddenly, a loud percussive rhythm started up out of nowhere. George wrinkled up her expression in momentary distaste until a faraway look floated into her eyes as she realised that this primitive rhythms were strangely compelling. It all flowed into the dramatic sights and sounds of a day along with the whistles blowing like no other and she smiled with pleasure. Charlie grinned under her breath as she'd remembered how her mother had bent her ear about rave music in the past, expressing her cordial dislike of her taste in music and going on to denounce her animal liberation politics.

The column now swung into Park Lane and many interesting buildings swung into view. It made Trisha and Sally-Anne aware that their nights when they were getting the party going at Chix precluded them from sightseeing in their adopted town and this was as good an opportunity that they'd get of seeing another side of life. Mr Wade retained a keen interest in this, passed by the slightly faded '30's splendour of the Dorchester Hotel and pointed out a smaller building of far greater significance to him a little further down.

"Hey, there's the Navy Club," he shouted cheerily above the hubbub of the samba band in the direction of his friends."Of course, our place is far more distinguished eh, Stuart."

"I remember you taking me when I was younger and Nicola came once or twice as she was smaller then," John Wade said with obvious warmth and affection, tactfully ensuring her sister's inclusion.

At once, Nikki recalled a long suppressed memory of pungent tobacco smell, highly polished mahogany furniture, polished silver cups and a model of an ancient man of war in a glass case and, most of all, hearty confident men towering over her. When the rupture took place with her family, this was a memory she wanted to leave behind as this was patriarchy personified. She was little then but she now sensed that her father and her friend were only human, trying to live their lives according to hand me down standards and hadn't she internalised a certain amount of this upbringing? She could chat with her father's generation as equals especially as this street demonstration had this levelling effect that her father and his friends were happy to embrace.

"I remember it well. After all, what reason have I to deny my past?" answered Nikki equably enough.

"So you'll have no objection to you and Helen dropping in for a drink or two the Saturday after next for a do that we're going to with John and Jill?" Mr Wade said with smooth precision.

Nikki and Helen rolled their eyes upwards to the heavens. Hardened street operators as they were were with years of experience of Larkhall Prison under their belts, they'd walked straight intro the trap. The humour of the situation made them laugh at what was a high compliment. After all, they could do anything. Both Claire Walker and Paul Williams grinned openly at their friends' temporary comic discomfiture and this rippled around all their friends from Chix and beyond. They agreed to the deal.

Beth's journalistic instincts zeroed in at all the interesting banners and posters that floated into view as the demonstration moved on down Park Lane and the massive edifice and swinging round into Piccadilly past the grandeur of the Wellington memorial on their right. She spotted various trade union banners with interest before locking onto the poster entitled "Relationship of Mass Destruction" with a picture of Tony Blair and George Bush affectionately close up against each other. The absurd montage of sexual innuendo and political warmongering made her burst out laughing. She reached for her pocket camera that she kept inside her jacket pocket and clicked the photograph. A mixture of sounds rose up from the rest of the gang as they'd been so fixated in getting to the demonstration on time that they'd clean forgotten to take a camera and commemorate the day.

"I'd forgotten about my camera as well. I'll take photographs for you all," she said in reassuring tones..

Meanwhile, Trisha and Sally Anne felt curiously excited by the atmosphere of the march which was celebratory and they were bubbling over with conversation, Karen and Beth suddenly appearing out of nowhere. This felt like a school outing where teacher wasn't looking and they could behave as they pleased, playing with placards and whistles. They could do and say as they pleased like giggling schoolgirls. It was profoundly liberating. They waved gaily at passers by who they pitied for being uncommitted, remaining on the sidelines,being preoccupied by errands that could have taken second place and above all, as party poopers. They glanced at the rows of police in their uniform yellow protective anoraks and blue trousers and suddenly, Ros and Jenny jumped into the frame. Behind their grave expressions, the women felt their friends' supportive presence. Nothing had really changed even if they appeared to be on opposite sides of the barricades. So thought the other women when they spotted their two friends and some of them discreetly waved at them.

As the march progressed, it was curious how the relative positions of the marchers warped and mutated. Not only did different banners and groupings appear out of nowhere and disappear into the throng but Trisha and Sally Anne suddenly found Claire and Peter Williams come into view and Beth and Karen disappeared so that the march consisted of random conversations along the way. A little while later, Nikki's parents engaged them in conversation and the older couple were sincerely interested in knowing more about them as Nicola and Helen had talked about them.

"I bet Nikki's parents have been there," grinned Cassie to Roisin as they walked past the opulent wealth of the Ritz and Fortnum and Masons on their right. Roisin's face was fresh- faced and glowing, her longish brown hair falling onto her shoulders, all the sights and sounds of London being easily available to witness..

It was in this state of dreamy contentedness that the march swept through Piccadilly and finally along the final streets that led into Trafalgar Square. It was towards the end that suddenly the fairly loosely composed procession ground to a halt and was compressed into a tightly packed crowd stretching the full width of the wide street with only Nelson's column as a marker of their goal. As their gang were scattered amongst the crowd, each of them had new neighbours and it seemed perfectly natural to chat to them as if this were Sunday afternoon tea on the terraces.


	53. Chapter 53

"So what's happening now? I'm a novice to this sort of thing," John Wade asked in self-deprecating tones of a pleasant looking fresh faced student type whom once he'd have looked down at his nose at. How times had changed and this day spent mixing with compassionate intelligent people set the seal on his transformation. This wasn't lost on the rest of the gang who accepted this

"Nothing to worry about. There's always a bit of a blockage getting into Trafalgar Square. You'd be surprised but there's enough space to fit us all in," he said in friendly tones. Nikki and Helen were a little anxious about Rose who picked up on their mood and wanted to be released from her pushchair to come up to the surface for a little cuddle. Paul Williams caught a glimpse of Nikki's parents and their friend waiting patiently for things to be sorted out. They were of the old school, he reasoned. The demonstration was in good hands so there was nothing to panic about. George found herself chatting in an animated fashion to a young woman who might have been Charlie's younger sister.

"I wonder what Jac Naylor is doing right now," Jane said as the thought hit her right out of the blue as she and Karen were temporarily walking together.

"Bugger Jac Naylor,"Karen retorted with emphatic derision."She's just a sad woman with nothing else left in her life than her job. we know how to live, you and I and so do Jo and Beth and all the rest of the gang. Just take a look all around us and see what she's missing." Those words blasted away all the crap that had threatened to infiltrate Jane's world.

Finally, a slight swirl ahead announced that the blockage had sorted itself out and the growing eddy of moving people sucked them into the huge concourse that comprised Trafalgar Square. There it was, spread before them, the majesty of Nelson's column, the two ornamental fountains lending a pleasing touch of Arcadia in the concrete city and most striking of all, a huge net sack containing a collection of black balloons.

"Why the dark colour?" John asked of his friend.

"Each balloon stands for every soldier pointlessly killed in Iraq," the man replied laconically, giving his throat a rest from his chanting.

The shuffling crowds of humanity occupied the near foreground to the left of which was the imposing grey stonework of the National Portrait Gallery. What amazed the novices to demonstrations was how the square wrapped up the multitudes in its capacious space especially with the feeling of arriving at their destination.

"A nice brisk walk," summarised Mr Wade approvingly in his unmistakeable style.

"We could have been on the South Downs on a nice spring day but here we get to see the metropolis at its best," followed John Wade, grinning at the way he capped his father's remark as his tie fluttered loose in the wind.

"But this is all for a good cause," interposed Mrs Wade in one of her rare utterances whose Home County tones and basic seriousness drew warm appreciative smiles from those nearest them.

"So what happens now?" George politely asked their friend with the megaphone to whom unspoken deference was given.

"We hang around, take in the atmosphere and if you need refreshments, I'd recommend the shop there on the corner of Northumberland Avenue for cheapness. If you're not so bothered and you want comfort, try the café right at the bottom of the flight of steps. You can see where the staircase starts at the gap in the balustrade," he said pointing to the stone railing that peeped through gaps in the crowds. George smiled warmly at their friend who she really liked. He was polite and intelligent and a definite step up from the Hooray Henrys who clustered ineffectively round her in her youth before John Deed appeared to part the crowds. She turned to Alice and they opted for comfort over price and, as they drew nearer, realised that the square had an interesting split level effect. They could see the huge stone lions, the vast concrete base on which stood a speaker's platform with microphones and overhead canopy.

"When do the speeches start?"Jo asked, her arm comfortably linked in Jane's but paying attention to business.

"Three quarters of an hour's time, give or take a bit," came the quiet response. At this, the gang split up in various directions and they meandered round the impromptu festival.

"Can't believe so many people are smiling," murmured Karen to Beth as they strolled around, hand in hand, viewing the proud array of colourful banners and feeling good and comfortable before heading for the café area. Beth had clicked away at regular intervals and had moved into the position of group photographer. A different thought struck Claire and Peter as they temporarily left the throng to get refreshments across the road. It struck them that, as soon as they walked across the hard tarmac, the temperature dropped sharply which cut through their clothing, especially through John Wade's familiar blue suit and white shirt.

"Oh what a lovely baby," a voice called from behind Nikki's back and Helen basked in the rightful attention of being the birth mother. By chance, it was curious how most of the gang had returned from their rambles having spread themselves out from their ad hoc assembly point and they suddenly realised how little Rose mattered in their lives. She had bumped along peacefully in her pushchair with the uninteresting view of backs of legs and bodies turned away from her and only the carnival atmosphere to grab her attention and a quick nappy change and a cuddle along the way. They looked at her as a tiny human being in the making with her innocent smile, glinting wide open green eyes and giggles at being notices at last. Sharp maternal eyes were drawn into the crowd and perceived behind the barely formed features the personality that was already forming.

"She'll break all the boy's hearts one day," observed a Mrs Middle England woman with fresh complexion and a stout green windcheater with all the natural unthinking affection in the world. A number of women blinked their eyes and thought, yes all things are possible. Charlie sidled over a mixed curiosity and reticence slowly drew her in.

"I'm not into babies- never had the time- but she's really charming,"she said in a halting fashion, with a sense of familiarity that she couldn't put her finger on. This was the cue for the other women to murmur assent especially as their presence at Rose's birth had partly felt expected of them. This prompted Trisha's heart to go out to this extraordinary creature, not just as an extension of Nikki and Helen but as a being in her own right. She surprised herself in crouching down to her level to talk baby talk to her. It was at that point that George and Alice returned from their creature comforts and zeroed in on the admiring throng. It was curious how Rose had inadvertently caused the gang who had been spread out around Trafalgar Square and beyond to gather around her. Even George and Alice returned from the comforts of the café and zeroed on the admiring crowd.

It was at this point that the loosely spread out crowds were called to order and the assembly shifted gear as ,for the next hour or so, various speakers from various points of view ranging from sober exposition, to impassioned anger to touches of sparkling humour which struck them all in different ways. All of them could recognise the common thread of "we protest" running through them all as a resonant appeal to the freedom of the human spirit. Nikki recalled standing on an improvised stage consisting of a chair so many years ago in Larkhall Prison as she waxed indignantly over injustice done to Femi, a frightened mother of many children after prison officers had beaten her up and had finally settled accounts with her recent report. John Deed remembered his many clashes with the Lord Chancellor's Department and the strike he'd led against the Home Secretary. Many women remembered either standing up in court giving evidence to seek justice or had supported others doing so and barristers and solicitors witnessed having been the active agents to achieve this. This was what it was all about in the bigger picture, they thought as emotions overflowed...

Finally, a white-haired gentleman of the old school spoke in his patrician accents to an obvious sense of deference from all sides and struck John Deed as a compendium of history in the making. George though she recognised him from long ago newspapers and asked their political guide for clarification.

"That's Tony Benn. He's President of the Stop the War Coalition. Anyone with any principles respects the guy."

"Wasn't he once called Anthony Wedgewood-Benn?" George asked him, wrinkling her forehead."I remember seeing pictures of him in the news with eyes like Catherine wheels. He really looks and sounds a lot like daddy. My father Joseph Channing who is a Court of appeal judge, you know," she elucidated in her charming chatty fashion.

"There's the Sun for you," he said unthinkingly and instantly regretted his words and not because George bridled at his remark about her reading material.

"I happen to read the Times I'll have you know," she retorted.

"She did, you know. I was there as were were once married," interjected John Deed humorously, trying to take the heat out of the situation.

"I don't doubt you. Same photograph, different papers, the man explained diplomatically."

"Quiet please. I want to listen to listen to him," George said, her winning smile and eagerness softening her impatient tones.

"...Never forget that our own history is full of popular victories that have been won in the same way, starting at the bottom and building up and their demands are met and accepted as a a permanent feature in decision making by all future governments. The stop the War Coalition movement that has been built up is one of the most important developments in recent years. It is a long overdue unruly breath of fresh air and we're all part of it," finished Tony Benn, rolling elegantly into his conclusion.

A breathtaking round of applause rippled round the huge crowd in the concourse. John Deed clapped fervently at this man who was wiser than him. George, Jo and Alice looked fondly at him and clapped along with the others. The sounds echoed in the still air till they faded out into a sense of peace and tranquillity.

Next, a woman in black loose-fitting clothes and long, curly hair floating in the breeze struck up the first electrified sonorous notes from her violin. It instantly grabbed everyone's attention as the melodic flow of sounds arched and wheeled in the silent air.

"What on earth is it?" breathed George in mingled puzzlement and dawning fascination. It reminded her of some long forgotten Bach violin sonata she'd bought years ago only minus a tinkling harpsichord and amplified to just short of excruciating and was pleasurable instead. To Charlie's contrastingly modern ears, these amplified sounds were slowed down to an impossibly yet fascinatingly ponderous tempo that made it impossible to dismiss. The layered bedrock of tragic emotion couldn't suppress a yearning desire for hope straining to escape . After all, to the sensitively attuned ears of the multitudes listening in rapture, isn't this duality what life is often about? Struggles in life in its various forms aren't cheerily cotton candy optimism, not when soldiers killed in foreign shores are considered not to mention the nameless, faceless

humanity whose country was invaded for no good reason. As the last wailing notes from the violinist, her body taut with energy, danced its way in a swooping downwards motion, it took everyone's breath away as the final echoing notes faded slowly into the still air. Only after a moment or two was the silence broken.

"Better this than standing for a minute's silence for the glorious dead," John Deed commented acerbically to one and all and Mr Wade and his friend reacted with a knowing grin John Wade reflected in a moment of pure tranquillity how he's enjoyed sporadic conversations with Nicola and her very reassuring partner, Helen and a number of their friends along the trail from Hyde Park to this spot. They'd impressed him as strong-minded, lively women whose conversation pleasantly spurred on his own thinking. While they were all gathered here, he could see their obvious affection for each other and he responded to this from the bottom of his heart as entirely natural. He made a mental note that, in accepting Helen and Nicola as family, he should be Uncle John to their daughter Rose, It made him wonder why on earth he and his parents had ever fallen out with Nicola but he was given the opportunity to make amends for so many wrong choices he'd made in his life. Somehow, he wanted this afternoon to last forever.

"Wait a minute. Some thing's happening," exclaimed Jane who saw a blurred movement to the netting that constrained the mass of black balloons that had remained static during the meeting. All through this demonstration, this sophisticated woman of the world had been taken outside her normal way of dealing with the world and it had been supplanted by a sense of wide-eyed wonder as she clutched onto Jo Mills hand The other woman smiled fondly, turned and gave her a soft, loving kiss that seemed the most natural thing to do in this environment where emotions of human decency were heightened. Out of the corner of her eye, Jo saw what her lover meant as, very slowly, the massed balloons slipped free from their constraints and she called out excitedly to the others in the gang. The sight of the black balloons starting to disperse induced an ominous mood as they weren't the normal happy colours like red, green and yellows of childhood memories but denoted serious business which had drawn the multitudes out onto the street to march and protest. However, as the balloons started to rise free and disperse, they denoted the irresistible spirit of hope and freedom as they floated up into the sky with a sense of childlike excitement.

Meanwhile, John Deed was thinking kindly of Kristine. She was never as close to him as now when she was in her flat and he was on the streets. She'd explained the night before that it was practically impossible for her to be with him on this demonstration but her thoughts would be with him. John had taken this like a man and had resolved to throw himself enthusiastically into the demonstration and enjoy the company of his friends. He knew that her lively imagination and insight would picture the event every step of the way as if she were present herself with Jules of course. Uncharacteristically, tears formed in his eyes as the woman who was the equal of his intelligence and outrageousness and just as uncommitted to long term relationships was with him in spirit and with everyone else who was close to him and gave him the spiritual nurturing that he needed.

"Look Rose," Helen called out excitedly, crouching down to her level and pointing upwards at the sky. Rose picked up on the feeling of happiness and grinned happily, shuffling around in excitement, feeling safe and protected in this crowd.

All this time, the black shapes slowly floated skywards, gradually diminishing in size as they danced around and bumped against each other, spreading out from each other as faint breezes took charge. Not only was the gang amongst whom Mr and Mrs Wade had effortlessly taken their place, we transfixed into staring skywards but the whole demonstration that populated Trafalgar Square. They were the sharpest manifestation of the nation's conscience but they'd stepped back in time in childlike wonder. Far above them, a widely scattered constellation of tiny dots were randomly moving as the wind took them. With their feet on the ground, a judge, a couple of barristers, solicitors, nurses, nightclub owners, prison reform workers, mothers, radical activists and naval officers felt transported into a better place, something they'd never forget. after all, hadn't their various life's experiences been rehearsals for learning to let their spirits fly free and unchained?


End file.
